Rue's Story
by ThereAreMuchWorseGamesToPlay
Summary: Ever wonder what went through Rue's mind at the Reaping? Or in the arena? How did she decide to pair up with Katniss? Were there any other alliances? The Hunger Games through Rue's eyes. **Rated T for violence** Credit to: Suzanne Collins for The Hunger Games characters, dialogue, plot, etc.
1. Reaping

Rue's Story

Chapter 1

When I wake up in the morning I feel as I always do. Refreshed, recharged, and ready-to start the new day. I feel no troubles, and none of the plagues of the world can reach me in these few blissful moments of being absolutely care free.

Quickly, that sensation fades, leaving me with pure dread and anxiety. Today is the Reaping-my first Reaping. Having only turned twelve two months ago I am not accustomed to this feeling, and I didn't know to expect it, though unfortunately that does not stop it from appearing.

Though, unlike many others, I don't fear for myself. I fear for my five siblings, who are too young to be reaped, but will suffer dearly if I am. I slip them as much food as I can-keeping only what I have deemed absolutely necessary to my survival-but even so there are nights when I hear them crying from their gnawing hunger. They are the things that keep me going. If I didn't have them as inspiration I don't know how I could go on living in this horrible place the Capitol has the audacity to call a country.

When I rise out of my bed it's still dark as night outside, the moon providing the only light in our small space. The four girls, Prine who's nine years old, Marope, who's only seven, Pleione who's just barely three, and I all share a small room. They are easy to room with, and I move so silently that I never wake them. Pleione was a problem when she was a baby, only because she cried so much at night, but now she shares a bed comfortably with Marope.

Prine and I have had our own beds for some time now, and the boys-Flux, Prine's twin, and Magnus who's five, each have their own beds in a makeshift bedroom formed from an overly large coat closet, just large enough to house two.

It's a tight fit, all eight of us-Ma and Pa and six kids-but we don't really crave space. What we need is food. Nice, hearty substantial food that will fill our bellies and keep us up on nutrients. This is nearly impossible to come by in District 11, unless you know where to look.

Fortunately, I know where such food hides, and though there isn't much, combined with the food my parents provide for us, we get by. This is why I rise half an hour before the crack of dawn each day, simply by my body's internal timer. I have time to wake up fully and prepare myself for gathering near the District fences. The Peace Keepers patrol the fences heavily, with watchtowers placed at all distances along it, but we are allowed to gather any food that grows in the plains and meadows reaching up to it.

This is where I've found our sustenance. There are very few people in 11 with the knowledge of the land that I have. It was passed down to me through careful-unauthorized-observation. I have the uncanny ability to move soundlessly through the trees and grasses, which is extremely useful when spying. I've quickly picked up on each person's own tricks to finding food in the meadows, plains, and fields, along the fence. By combining each person's individual food gathering style I've armed myself with an arsenal of close to three hundred types of useful plants. Valued either for food or medicinal purposes.

Today, as I slip out our homes front door, I'm out to find food. Today-being Reaping day-the citizens are meant to celebrate. What, I don't know-perhaps the fact that their child may live to see another year. I shudder at the thought of trying to be happy-or even relieved-on a day like today, because someone, somewhere in 11, will be mourning over a child, who is not yet lost. It's a horrible tradition.

Nevertheless, we must eat tonight, even if it's nothing special. I make my way along the fence, enjoying the cool air of the morning. As I gather roots, leaves, and berries, I watch the sun rise and it's yellow rays of warmth make me feel like singing.

I sing my favorite melody to a nearby Mockingjay, and watch it repeat my tune. It's a simple song that I repeat as I work, quickly gathering tonight's meal.

There are more people than usual out gathering this morning, because today is Reaping day, and no one must tend to the crops. It's senseless to give us the day off, only to force us into much worse labor tomorrow to make up for lost time. The cycle continues throughout the games, time off, working harder, time off, working later, until sometime after the games the work schedule resets itself-back to normal.

I whistle and sing, loving the way my songs, and the Mockingjay's melodies affect the mood of the morning. On a day like today each and every person in District 11 should be touched by something as beautiful and powerful as music.

I make my way back to our house a little after daybreak, though I pause at the door, hearing words. My parents are up, arguing with one another, and, though I don't usually eavesdrop I can't help myself today.

"Caldwell! You know there is nothing we can do. Saying such things will only bring trouble down on us."

"She's in that blasted glass bowl eight times, Euina! She may leave us…" My father's voice breaks on the word 'leave'. We all know he means 'die'.

"You mustn't think that way. We both know the odds are still utterly in her favor even with the tesserae. Eight isn't that many in the long run. There are older girls who have many more than she does."

"But she's only twelve now Euina! Think about next year when she'll have eighteen names in there, at only thirteen. Heaven knows she won't allow Prine or Flux to take any tesserae when they're of age." Of course I wouldn't who did they think I was? I could never…

"I know," My mother finally breaks down in tears. "I know." It nearly breaks my heart to hear her weep for me, though I'm still here in 11 with them.

"You know she's not even scared," _That's a lie. _"I look at her and I still see Rue. My little girl, who never gives up or loses hope; I wish I knew how she does it."

"I see it too." My mother says quietly. "In her eyes, there's a liveliness, that you just can't strip from her, as hard as the Capitol may try. It's her music." My mother says, right on point.

My music and my family, that's what I live for.

I wait for a few minutes, allowing them time to compose themselves before I 'return' with our food. I feel a little guilty for spying on them, but I appease myself in knowing that they will never find out.

"Morning Ma," I say, coming in the kitchen and setting the basket of roots and greens on the counter.

"Morning dear," She says pressing a kiss on my forehead.

"Good morning my star power!" My father calls from the table, using an old nickname of his for me.

"Morning Pa." I say with a smile, and a roll of my eyes.

"You find anything good out there?" He asks with a wink.

"Some ripe berries that we don't get much. The red one's-I think they're called 'raspberries'." I say with a shrug, testing out the name.

One of the many downfalls of spying, you get more images of plants than of their names.

"Sounds good." He says with a smile.

I know that I must be ready in the town square by 11 o'clock, so I slink into my room.

I sit on my bed for a moment, just preparing for what's in store for me today. Not worried about me, but the other children-my friends-the one's I know in school. It will be so terrible to watch them die before me on screen.

I lose myself in my thoughts for some time, and I don't notice when Prine awakens, until she sits softly beside me.

"Are you scared?" She asks me gently.

"Yes, one way or another some poor child is going to lose their life for sport. We both know it. No District 11 tribute ever wins." I know I must sound as though I feel I'm doomed, though this fear is not for me at all.

"Don't say that. What about Seeder? Or Chaff?" She coaxes me.

"They're the exceptions." I allow. Our mentors really did try, I believe, to get our tribute home-at least one of them-though they fail almost every year.

"Yeah," She says with a wispy sigh. A silent tear slides down her cheek. I brush it away quickly.

"Don't cry. Please," I say pleadingly.

"I have to, what if something… happens to you." Again with my family members worrying about me dying.

"I will be fine. You want to know something?" I ask trying to staunch her silent stream of tears. She nods, not trusting her voice. "I'm not afraid to die." I tell her truthfully. "I would be watched over by Mamaw and Pappy. I'm most afraid of what would happen to you all if I died." I say speaking bluntly on the subject.

"I would keep us fed." She promises me.

"Of course you would." I say with a smile, Prine knows almost as much as I do about gathering and plants.

"Are you really not afraid?" She asks her voice wavering with tears.

"No, I really am not." I say one hundred percent sure.

"Why?" Her voice is barely a whisper.

"I don't know." I tell her. "I guess I just believe that after all the pain we suffer here there has to be some place else. Some place better."

"Some place with food for everyone, and lots of love." She adds words to what I see in my head.

"Some place full of music and joy." I nod along with her, thinking of the lyrics to an old song. "So, if something ever happens to me, you picture me there. In that place full of love, music, food," I smile at the goofiness of that one, "and joy. Ok?"

She nods silently, and rises from the bed. Her head only comes up to my chin and she has shoulder length dark hair just like mine. Though her eyes, unlike mine are a hazel color, instead of brown. She's beautiful. I smile, proud that she's my sister.

She goes into the bathroom to get ready for the day. I wait for her to finish and follow suit.

* * *

"Rue!" Prine and Pleione pound on the bathroom door together four and a half hours later. "It's almost ten thirty, we have to go."

I know she's right, and I am ready to go, but I have to finish this last note. The note to Prine, should the unthinkable happen. I want to write down all my thoughts and love and wants for each person in my family, so that if I do become a tribute they will always have a part of me and my undying love for them.

"One more minute."

I scrawl the last few lines.

_Sweet, beautiful, young Prine, I love you so much, and I hope that you should always remember me. Don't forget that I love you. I love you so much more than my own life. I would die a hundred thousand times if it would keep you safe._

_Please remember my singing, my songs, and my melodies. Keep me alive through them. When you think of me, picture me in that place, full of love, joy, food, and music. Remember me as I always was being your sister: happy._

_Your sister,_

_Rue_

I end the final note, and place it securely in the wooden box at my feet. I close the box tightly.

I leave the bathroom and go straight to my mother.

"This," I say gesturing to the box. "Is for _if _you need a piece of me." She nods in understanding. I trust her to not open this box until after I have been reaped, should the need come.

We all file onto the streets and I make my way to the section of check in for the twelve year old's. I step up and they prick my finger, drawing and documenting something with it on their fancy machines and papers.

I'm herded into a roped off section of space just for the twelve year old girls. A few kids from my school are near me, but none of us speak.

When Topazma Darkmin, the District 11 escort takes the microphone from the mayor the crowd falls silent. We all know what's coming and no one likes it. At this moment my heart should be pounding and my palms should be sweaty, but they're not. I simply want to know whose name she holds in her hands.

"Rue Olgilby!" She reads in a clear voice that rings out with finality.

_Five seconds, _I command myself; _you get five seconds to digest this. _

One…_ I'm going to the Hunger Games._

Two…_ I'm so glad I wrote those notes._

Three…_ What is my family going to do?_

Four…_ How do I tell them goodbye?_

Five… _Take a deep breath, and just get on the stage. _

My thoughts don't show a resounding sense of fear. The only thing I feel is carefully balanced acceptance-at my impending death-and fight-to show everyone that, though I'm only twelve, I can still stay alive-until someone kills me.

I walk with purpose through the crowd, and I now register the cries of discontent that usually accompany a twelve-year-old tribute. My sisters Prine, Marope, and Pleione are crying hysterically with my mother. My father looks enraged, and my brothers are in shock. Their reactions cause tears to prick at my eyes, and I look away from them, willing myself to keep it together.

The mentors-_my _mentors-are looking at me with pity. This pulls me up short. I don't want or need their pity, this is the only way to shock people, to keep myself together, calm and composed, not like any young girl facing death should be.

I reach the stage and Topazma smiles at me.

"Are there any volunteers?" She asks the crowd.

The wind whips me hair around my face, though the expanding silence. This doesn't affect me at all. I knew there was no one to save me-nor would I want them too, I want them all to live.

"Very well then, let's have a round of applause for our female tribute from District 11 Rue Olgilby!" She yells into the microphone.

The crows cheers wildly for me, though this isn't what they usually do. Normally there's scattered disjointed clapping by those holding the betting slips in the back, but not this. Not this unified cheering.

I'm confused, until I hear their cheers.

"Keep it together Rue!" Someone yells.

"First time a twelve year old might win it!" Yells another.

"Show 'em what you're made of!" The shouts of glee continue, and I keep my expression serene and peaceful.

Topazma reigns in the crows and draws the male tribute.

"Thresh Perthshire!" She reads another name, clearly, and unmistakably.

A massive boy who must be either seventeen or eighteen makes his way up to the stage. He must be all muscle, and no fat. He will be a very strong competitor for District 11. I can tell from the fire in his eyes that he plans to come home. All the better, for if he returns, for a year on Parcel Day my family will receive food and treats. I sigh at the thought.

"I give you... The tributes of District 11, Rue and Thresh!" The crowds cheers for us as we shake hands, and they continue their cheering as we enter the Justice Building.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey guys, this is one of my first Hunger Games fanfictions and my only fanfiction for this site so far. I would love to hear what you think of my writing. If you guys really like it I might even post more... I have them all written, and I think I will post once a week. **

**Please review :)**


	2. Decision

Chapter 2

Decisions

I'm herded off into a room and I sit on the couch to think. Parts of my letters flash behind my eyes.

_Mother, don't let them watch me die. Please. For me. Let them keep only the best memories. _

_Father, don't do anything reckless. I love you and I will always be with you. I will always be you star power. _

_Pleione, whatever you do, whomever you have to ask, please, please don't forget me. I will always love you. _

_Flux, stay strong for them, as much as possible. Please don't let them lose their joy; it's all they have now. Keep them safe and happy for me. Be there for Prine. She'll need you. _

_Magnus, remember that time I taught you the 'work is over song'. I don't ever want you to forget that time. I loved teaching you and the Mockingjays love your voice. Keep singing for me. Keep music in their lives. And don't you ever forget that I love you. _

They are not easy to think about, and tears almost stream down my face. I will never see my family again, but I will leave them each with their own personalized piece of my heart. I take comfort in that thought.

My mother and father come through the large doors first. They embrace me tightly both of them weeping.

"I love you both." I say firmly, extricating myself from their arms-there are things I need to say, things they must hear. "But you can't let this stop you from raising your other children. You can't forget them. Raise them exactly as you did me, and they will all grow up well. Keep being happy. Please… for me… be happy." I finish speaking and my mother is shocked.

"H-how can we b-be… happy when you're-you're gone!?" She wails desperately.

"You must try. Find something, anything that gives you faith, and cling to is. Stay happy, and keep each other close. Do _not _let this drive you apart. Remember love. There is too much hate in the world for love to be forgotten. Please?" I whisper, broken.

"Of course," My father replies in awe. Then he pulls something out of his pocket. "Your district token," He says placing a necklace on me. I reach for the pendant and find a wooden star, "For my star power. We will always be with you." He smiles at me sadly.

"And I will always be with you." I smile, perfectly content now.

A Peace Keeper comes to the door to collect my parents.

"Goodbye Rue," My mother whispers before dissolving in a fit of sobs in my fathers arms.

"We love you." He finishes for her, "And we will follow whatever wishes you placed in that box of yours." He says finally.

Then they're gone. I will never see them again and I know that-I accept that. The idea sends shooting pains into my heart, and yet somehow I still haven't cried. I know that I have one less piece in my heart, because I'm certain they have a piece with them.

Next four of my siblings rush in. Flux, Marope, Magnus, and Pleione. They hug me tight, and I tell them how much I love them.

"You must keep yourselves fed, and don't take too much from Prine, especially you Flux. You should probably learn some plants too, to help her." He's crying but he nods, agreeing with me.

"Pleione, you give Ma and Pa big hugs for me ok?" I ask her in a cheerful voice, and she nods enthusiastically, not understanding the situation.

"Pleione, can you do something for me?" I ask, knowing this attempt is futile. She nods. "Don't ever ask Ma, Pa, or Prine when I'm coming home ok?"

She nods and smiles.

I hug them all once more, and address Marope and Magnus. "I have such high hopes for you. You're both going to do something great in this world." I say with confidence.

"Just like you." Marope says, referring-I'm sure-to something she thinks I'll do during the Games.

"Exactly." I say, hoping we're right. I would love to-if I have to die-die for something.

"Do your best." Magnus says sadly, tears spilling over.

I hug him tightly. "My very, very, very, best." I say, using a quote from when I helped him learn his addition skills for school. He smiles a little at that.

When the Peace Keeper comes for them they leave and I feel a little piece of my heart ripped from my chest.

Finally, Prine comes in, crying hysterically.

I take her in my arms, and she calms down quickly.

"I will miss you." I say with emotion.

"I will miss you too." She says still crying in her old, silent way.

"Remember where I'm going?" I ask fervently.

"The place with food, joy, music, and love." She says quickly.

"Yes." I say agreeing with her.

"Since I won't be there you do your best for them." I say, and she nods.

"I've always wanted to be just like you." She admits with a sad smile.

"Now is your chance. Show them the path back to love and joy. They will need help. So will you. Please read the letter I wrote you and do as I asked, I know it will be hard-" I say referring to the part where I ask them not to watch me die "-but it will make the whole thing easier for me."

"Anything for you." She says with a tight hug.

When the Peace Keeper comes for her, and she leaves I yell, "I love you all!" and the door slams shut.

Prine took the last piece of my heart with her.

* * *

Topazma accompanies Thresh and I to the train station where we will board our train to the Capitol. The station is full of reporters and cameras so I'm glad that I didn't lose my carefully calculated emotions.

By the time we finally get to the doors of the train, I can see over the people just enough to see my family members craning to get a glimpse of me. I see Prine and my mother and make eye contact, I flash them a reassuring smile, and Prine mouths 'we love you'. I nod slightly at them.

When the doors of the train close I know I will never make eye contact with my family members again. They are never going to be with me again. I will miss them terribly and I can't imagine how they're feeling.

Topazma shows me to my room and I go into it, glad for a few moments of solitude. When I'm finally alone I let the tears I've been holding in flow freely. I don't cry long, because there's no point in that. Crying won't bring me back to them.

So I pull myself together and wash my face so I look fresh. I change into a simple capitol outfit, and out of my formal Reaping clothes. I make my way out into the dining car of the train and Topazma smiles widely at me.

"Good evening dear, you're just in time for dinner." She says with a bit of sadness in her voice.

"Evening," I reply, looking for everyone else.

"Rue. You are so brave." I hear Seeder's voice behind me. I don't bother denying her statement, I haven't figured out how to make people understand-yet.

"I just don't want to waste the last few days of my life living in fear." I'm resolved in this decision.

"That's very smart of you." She says, not trying to deny the fact that I will die in the Arena. The only question is if I will die sooner or later. I'm determined to die later; I want to show the Capitol that even a twelve year old can stay alive in their useless games.

She shows me to a table. Or at least that's what I think it is. It's so covered in food that I can't make out its shape. I stare at the food, and tears pool in my eyes. I feel sick to my stomach, and I know I can't eat.

I turn and race back to my compartment, not willing to face the others. I shut the door and collapse on my bed. I let the tears fall again, and I don't try to stop them. I hear the door open and close gently.

Someone comes to sit beside me, and their arms envelop me. The arms remind me of my mother's. I look up a little to see Seeder. She doesn't speak for a while, but she does calm me.

Once I recover from the suddenness of my attack, I breathe deeply, and stop my tears.

"Feel better?" She asks me gently.

"No." I say my voice full of dismay.

"It's ok to be afraid." She assures me.

My eyebrows come together. "I'm not afraid. I'm scared."

"It's the same thing." She tells me sadly.

"No it's not!" I yell. "To me being afraid is feeling a deep fear for_ yourself_. I'm not afraid for me. I'm scared, because I won't know what happens to my family! That food. All that food, it just set me off… the people here have so much, and they have no idea. That spread on the table could keep all eight of us fed for a month. And here it's nothing, just common daily fare. No one goes hungry, and no one thinks to help those of us who do."

"I know." She says, a strange expression on her face.

"What?" I ask grumpily.

"I was wrong about you." She tells me. "I thought you were going to be somewhere in that arena hiding until some Gamemaker weapon took you out. Now I see that I was wrong. You won't be hiding, you'll be _surviving_." The words tumble out of her.

"As long as I can." I confirm. "I have to show them… show them that I'm more than they think I am."

"That's very good of you. Stealth will be your best asset. You need to keep to the trees. Are you good at that?"

"Of course." I say simply.

"Ok, then we have something we can work with."

I only nod.

"You aren't hungry?" She asks me.

"How could I eat while they starve?" I ask her, pain in my voice.

"Of course. In any case, we need to watch the other Reapings, to see what we're up against. " She says quietly.

As we walk side by side to the couch and T.V. Thresh and Chaff join us.

"Are you ready?" Chaff asks.

We don't move, so Chaff turns on the T.V. anyway.

It starts with the Reaping from 1. The volunteering in this District-along with Districts 2, 3, and 4-is complicated and full of disputes, with multiple people all vying for their chance to die.

Each Career Tribute wants to bring the pride of winning home to their district. Though they think they know what they're volunteering for-they have know idea.

Once they're in the games their combat practice doesn't help if they're starving or dying. It's not uncommon for dying Careers to tell the cameras that they wish they hadn't volunteered. The problem is each Career seems to think they're the exception, the one who'll win. Only, that is only true for one of them. Only one of them will win.

Then there are the Reapings from 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. In those Districts there are no volunteers, though they each have much greater odds than I do of winning. They're all fed well enough-it seems-and they have muscle and height. I couldn't take any of them out if I wanted to.

Then there's the Reapings from 10, 11 and 12. Even if there's no need to re-watch our own Reaping-we lived through it. The Reaping in 10 is uneventful, though I feel a pang of sorrow at the male chosen. He walks with a limp, and I doubt he can run at all-some kind of permanent injury. I don't think he will last long in the games.

I'm beginning to lose what little hope I had conjured. My idea had been to chose who I thought _should _win the games, and asses how I could aid them-this entailed figuring out their demeanor, and whether they would accept an alliance with me.

At first I considered a red haired girl from District 5. She seems smart, and I'm sure her family could use the money-because she looks quite thin. Though something tells me it's not wise to get to close to her, she looks lethal.

When District 12 appears on the screen, I tense up, hoping that someone here is worth winning. Worth me giving my life to protect them.

Effie Trinket, the escort for the District 12 tributes reads the name.

"Primrose Everdeen!" The crowd draws in a collective breath.

That is normally a sign that someone from town was chosen, or someone who is well liked in the District.

_Or someone who's twelve, _I add to my mental list.

I see that the latter was true about the girl. She is certainly twelve, and nearly the same size as me. She keeps her head up high as she accepts the shock of being reaped.

She takes a few steps and I take in her long blonde braids and blue eyes. I would like to say that this girl isn't from the Seam-the poorest part of 12. She looks like a girl from the town, one who always has just enough food.

Her expression is one of shock, but not fear. Her clear blue eyes are sad though, as if she knows something terrible is coming-something she has absolutely no control over. The sea of children parts for her and she moves slowly toward the stage.

"Prim!" A strangled voice screams as loud as possible. "Prim!" The voice calls again, more composed.

The cameras pan to a tall girl, fifteen or maybe sixteen, with her dark hair braided up intricately on her head. She is uncharacteristically beautiful for a girl from the Seam. She has the bright light in her grey eyes, that suggests her fight-and her self-sacrificing nature.

She races to the girl, the other kids clearing for her as well. She sweeps the smaller girl behind her with one strong protective arm.

"I volunteer!" She gasps, knowing-I'm sure-exactly what this means. "I volunteer as tribute!" She yells as loud as she possibly can, as if someone might not hear her.

The stage is in confusion, because _no one _volunteers in District 12. What this girl has done is the boldest form of devotion.

Sacrificing herself for the small girl before her-it can't be because she thinks she will live. It's because she _has _to protect the girl. It's not a choice; it's an instant reaction, an instinct to protect the one she loves.

Finally the people on stage recover and Effie reclaims the microphone.

"Lovely, but I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner, and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…" She trails off unsure of the procedure.

The mayor of 12 looks like he's in pain, and I assume he knows the mystery volunteer, though not well.

"What does it matter?" He asks no one in particular. "What does it matter? Let her come forward." He says gruffly.

The young girl who was originally chosen is screaming and tears are streaming down her face, much like Prine's reaction to me being reaped. The thought brings up the question _are they sisters? _If they are I know how they both feel. I know I would do the very same thing for my younger siblings.

The small girl's arms lock around the older girls waist with extreme force.

"No Katniss! No! You can't go!" She wails, refusing to release her grip.

The tears I hadn't realized I'd been holding back spill down my cheeks. This is one of the most open displays of love that I have ever seen. This girl is selfless in this moment.

"Prim let go," The older girl commands, though the younger girl remains unmoved. "Let go!" The older girl yells trying to remain calm.

A boy-perhaps a man-comes to grab Primrose's tiny waist and pry her off the older girl, "Up you go, Catnip." He mutters with a shaking voice.

_Did I hear Primrose wrong before? Is her name Catnip?_

I shake the thought off for now. I watch in awe as this nameless boy carries the struggling child off-to find her mother I assume. Her screams fade and the volunteer mounts the stage, a mask of an expression on her face.

The escort babbles on about 'the spirit of the games' for a moment then asks for the volunteer's name.

The girl swallows her emotions and says in a calm voice, "Katniss Everdeen,"

Effie makes herself seem heartless by mentioning Katniss was 'stealing' her sister's 'glory'-while in reality Katniss accepted her sisters death sentence. When she asks for applause not one person in 12's square claps. Though-it would appear that- nearly every one of them presses the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to Katniss, in what I'm assuming is a silent goodbye. It's hard to tell for sure, because the camera angles and frames have been altered.

She looks on the verge of tears when her 'mentor'-a constantly drunk victor by the name of Haymitch Abernathy-makes a scene and falls, headfirst, off the stage. In the time of his episode Katniss replaced the wavering mask on her face, keeping herself emotionless on the outside.

Effie quickly moves onto the boy tribute and calls out, "Peeta Mellark!"

I thought things could get no worse for Katniss, but by the look on her face, it's clear he is someone she knew, and looked either up to or after.

I feel the decision settling in my heart. If I have to give my life I want to give it for someone deserving of it. This girl just proved to me that she deserves someone to care for her-after all the care she's given to her sister, and others I'm sure. She thinks will give her life for her sister, and I will give my life, if in some small way to aid her in winning.

I smile a little at this revelation. I won't die for nothing. I will die for something-_someone. _

When Seeder turns off the T.V. and turns to all of us, she makes eye contact with me. Her eyes ask me a silent question _what are you thinking?_

I just smile and say, "Now, _that _was brave." And I leave the room.

* * *

**Hey there readers. Thanks for the views. I'm hoping for reviews but it's good to know someone has read my story. Thanks for taking the time to read. Please review. ;) **

**Also- DISCLAIMER: All credit to Suzanne Collins, where I have used her dialogue, characters, settings, and plot. This is effective for the entire fanfic. **

**R&R!**


	3. Truce

Chapter 3

Truce

When I awake the next morning it takes a minute for that weightlessness of the night's rest to wear off. Those few moments where no troubles can reach me are blissfully peaceful, and I don't think-if only for a few moments-of my siblings and parents back in District 11, probably starving now.

I look at one of the Capitol clocks and see that it's 4:00 in the morning. I almost laugh, because I _never _get up that early, until I remember that there's a time change between the Capitol and District 11. It's only an hour behind here, so it says it's four, but I'm up because dawn-at home-comes at five.

I rouse myself up out of the bed and get dressed. I meander out into the dining hall, only to see that there is no one there. I sigh, set on heading back up to my room when a voice speaks from a couch in the T.V. room.

"You too?" It's a deep voice that I haven't heard much since we left our District-or ever really.

"Thresh?" I ask quietly, moving silently into the room.

He nods. "Couldn't sleep?" He observes gently.

"It was the time change," I admit. "Stupid internal alarm clock." I giggle at my own joke, and the sound is pretty-almost like music. It makes me want to sing.

He doesn't say anything, and an expression of anger takes over his features. I'm confused-and well, I should admit it-_scared _of Thresh in this moment.

"Are you ok?" I ask cautiously.

"Yes." He says in his curt manner, though his eyes still portray fury.

"What's wrong?" I press on him.

"Your laugh… it's just… It makes me mad because…"

"In a few days no one will hear it?" I guess.

"Something like that." He admits to me, the anger becoming sorrow.

"It's ok." I shrug it off. "I know what I want." I also know that, as much as it would help my family, I don't really want Thresh to die. The Victor has to be Katniss-or him.

"You're a smart girl. Don't give up." He advises me.

"I wouldn't dream of it." I say with a smile.

He smiles back at me, and the urge to sing hits me again. I sing a few notes, stringing them together, creating a tune.

"You have a pretty voice. When you're in there…" He trails off.

"What?" I ask, open to advice.

"Show them… show them exactly what they're depriving the world of. Innocent children like you. There's too few of them left." He sighs deeply.

"Thank you." I say earnestly. "I won't hold anything against you in the arena." I speak from the heart, attempting to remove any debt he may think he owes me. "Just… do what you have to do." I say with a sad smile.

He looks at me with a probing expression. "I could never do that. I would never kill you. I couldn't. You're from home, and you're only twelve." He has made his decision.

"Well, thanks. I won't kill you either." I say with a laugh.

I actually get him to chuckle. "You're not half bad kid." He says smiling to himself. Then the sadness rearranges his features.

"Don't feel bad for me." I say trying to let him be happy. "I'm going to be just fine." I smile.

"If you say so," He allows himself to accept my fate, the same way I did yesterday.

"Is there anything interesting to do here?" I ask excitedly, exploring is my thing.

"No." He says, back to his one-word answers.

"Well, I'm going to check everything out. See you around." He grunts an acknowledgement.

I stalk silently down the hall and I peer into each open door. There are three bathrooms and six other doors that remain closed. I push one door in, only to find a full size glass wall on one side of the room. I pick up a remote and click through the options. My eyes widen when I hit a button that takes me home. Not literally, but I'm in my meadows, plains, and fields. There's life everywhere and butterflies flit about. It looks as though someone has placed a camera right in my District.

I stop for a moment. This may be the very thing they've done-because the place in the camera's frame looks very familiar, and the colors are exactly the same one's I've left behind in 11. I've never considered this aspect of things. I see a few movements in the tall grasses, and then my heart stops. I am now one hundred percent sure that there is a camera hidden in my District-for I am staring at my sister.

I hear her lovely voice singing to the Mockingjays and I think-for a moment-that this may not be accidental. We have a few kind Peace Keepers back home, and I have a feeling someone told Prine to come here, knowing about the camera.

The pressure on my chest eases as I see she is fine, she is happy, and she will not break down over my loss. They will not go hungry. I smile and laugh as she gathers food, and medicinal plants.

She sings to the Mockingjays and giggles and laughs. I feel as though I am there with her, in 11, enjoying the day.

Fifteen minutes later she must go, and she leaves the frame, singing. Something tells me that I wasn't supposed to see this. Once you leave for the games you are gone, with no contact from your family. This is an exception, that may have been a mistake.

When I head back to the dining hall Thresh isn't alone, Chaff and Seeder are awake and they greet me.

They begin breakfast, and I find that I'm able to eat small amounts of the bread that comes from home and drink some milk.

It eases the hunger in my stomach substantially. The mentors try idle conversation, but it isn't getting Thresh to open up. They want to work on his strategy, and he said I could train with him, that he wasn't going to keep secrets from someone so young, from 'someone that promised not to kill me', he'd said with a smile.

I sit patiently, knowing they should spend all their time and efforts to help Thresh, because we all know I can't win. I know-in my heart-that Katniss will win. She's so strong, and I know her district partner will try to protect her, I know this all from her reaping.

She has the fight, and the compassion to win, and win with dignity. She won't become some savage who kills whatever she comes in contact with; she'll use her head, and allies. I _think _she will be my ally if I find her in the arena. I smile at the idea of getting to know her before I die.

I don't think she'd be able to kill me, but I should be weary. As much as I want her to win, I don't really want to die either-I'm ok with dying after I make it at _least_ a few days in, but I want to show the Capitol who they're killing: innocent children, who had every right to live.

When I'm finally referenced to in the conversation it's to ask if Thresh and I plan to be allies. I don't think I'd mind being Thresh's ally, but it seems as if he'd be too big to fly through the trees as I do, and I'm not comfortable staying on the ground.

"We're to different," I reply saving him from having to answer. "I'm built for the trees. He's built for hand-to-hand, or at least staying on the ground. But we won't kill each other." I say finishing the explanation. What would the Capitol make of that? Two tributes, that aren't allies, refusing to kill each other. How strange that would seem to them.

"Exactly." Thresh agrees with me.

"So, Rue, what's your strategy going to be?" Seeder asks me.

"Get an ally, stay as high in the trees as possible, and keep moving to avoid the Gamemakers attacks." I say, my entire plan, leaving out-of course-who I plan to team up with.

"Rue, you can't trust anyone in there." Seeder says disapprovingly.

"And I can't do this alone. I need someone." I insist, trying to make it seem as though _I'm _the one who needs and ally, when in reality Katniss will need some type of help. I just know it.

"Very well then, who did you have in mind?" She asks cautiously.

"Definitely not the Careers." I say avoiding her question.

"Who then?" She presses.

"Katniss Everdeen." I say with a resigned sigh. "Maybe Peeta Mellark, if they're together." I say, feeling like they very well could be, since they seemed to know each other.

"Oh." Seeder and Chaff stare at me, dumbfounded.

"Yep." I say smiling, I'm sure they think I'm some naive child, which I suppose I could be, but I feel like this is _right._

"That's actually the best choice for an ally for you." Seeder says considering my idea. "She saved her sister, and it appears as though her sister and you have much in common. She may see Primrose in you." I nod at her logic; I think I am like Primrose in some ways. "She also appears to have the fight in her. She might be able to keep you safe." She says thoughtfully.

"I'm not looking for a babysitter," I clarify. "I want to be her ally. Not her sister. I just think we could help each other out."

Seeder and Chaff nod, and go back to talking with Thresh, whom I'm sure they're eager to train. He's strong and fit; they think he could win for 11. I, on the other hand, have a different theory.

When the train begins to slow, and we pull into an enclosed space with flashes of white Seeder sighs, and says, "Publicity. They follow you everywhere." To herself, and then, "This is the Capitol." To Thresh and I. We nod, and go to the window to peer out.

There are hundreds of people craning to catch a sighting of us on their cameras, I've only ever seen this on T.V. Luckily, Topazma clears the pathway for us and we make it into the remake center, where I will be made over, into someone the Capitol can claim is pretty.

I know that after today odds are I won't look much like Rue Olgilby, so I say a quiet goodbye to myself.

* * *

**Hello lovely readers! It's me. I wanted to post again, and keep the chapters coming. I am pleased to say I have my first reviewer, and this chapter is dedicated to that person. (You know who you are) Reviews make my day, so take a second and write me one, please!**

**By the way, what did you think of my little capitol technology from the movie? I always pictured that window screen thing that Katniss had in her room was just broadcasting video feed from her district... this fanfic let me put that idea out there. :) **

**Soooo... what did you think? Oh, and what did you think of Thresh? Would love feedback.**

**Thanks**

**R&R**


	4. Opening Ceremonies

Chapter 4

Opening Ceremonies

"We're almost done dear." One of the members of my prep team soothes me softly.

"Well that's good." I say with a smile.

"You're very brave." She comments, taking note on how I haven't complained once. I don't feel the need to tell her that's only because Seeder instructed me not to.

When they are finally finished 'remaking me' I realize the grumbling in my stomach suggests I've been in the remake center for a few hours. I want to thank my prep team before they leave, but I can't recall their names, they only said them once, and it was to fast for me to catch.

I'm glad they appear to be almost done, because I don't know how much longer I can take looking at these walls. They're completely grey, and the room is full of silver metal. It's all very medical like, and I'm starting to feel claustrophobic.

When I first arrived they put me in a scratchy hospital gown, that's very thin. I've been allowing them to do whatever they please for a long time now, and I'm hoping for a change in scenery, preferably to a place with windows.

One of the capitol prep team people hands me my clothes from before, the one's I was wearing this morning. They're a light green silky shirt, and a black pair of pants. They are much more comfortable and I take them willingly. Just as I turn to thank them they're gone.

I assume they scampered off to retrieve my stylist. They didn't say her name, but I believe she's been styling district 11's tributes for a few years. We aren't normally too exposed, or horrible. Mostly we just look silly. Safe to say the chariot ride isn't where we get the most sponsors.

A tiny woman pokes her head into the room. She is dressed completely in Capitol clothing, though her style is unique, with a little bit of subtle suggestion at some _emotion; _a rare thing for capitol citizens.

She has a light green tint to her hair, and she's wearing a green lipstick. Her makeup is very overdone, and she emanates the capitol essence. There's no mistaking her for anyone from the districts.

"Rue?" She calls in a soft voice.

"Yes?" I respond, and she comes all the way into the room, closing the door behind her.

"Oh, you're so darling." She sounds so… _sad. _

"Thank you. I'm Rue Olgilby, but I think you knew that before..." I smile at her. She seems so frail. It's impossible to not want to protect her. She's almost smaller than me!

"I am your stylist, Savera." She holds out a tiny hand, and I take it, shaking her hand.

"Nice to meet you." I say with a kind smile.

"You as well. Now… come." She takes my hand and pulls me behind her to a different room.

This room does have a window, as I had hoped, and it has color. The walls are a soft green, with a pattern in blue. There's a wooden table in the center covered in sketches and designs. It's very disorganized, but I know this must be where she works.

"I'm hungry, are you hungry?" She asks with a giggle.

"Sure…" I say, confused. There isn't any food within my line of sight, and I don't see anyone bringing it here. Besides there is no place to eat in here-the table is covered in papers.

With one sweep of her arm she throws the papers and sketches to the floor, surprising me completely.

"I'll just clean them later." She says with a shrug.

We both sit down, and suddenly she pushes some buttons in the wall, throws me an apologetic smile, and food appears on the table as if by magic. I guess this is why she looked sorry-she knew that this would _never _happen in 11.

It smells delicious, and my stomach grumbles at the scent, but I refuse to give in. Once again, I eat only the rolls from district 11, and pick it apart slowly, dipping it in a gravy that tastes and smells familiar which means it must be from home.

Savera doesn't waste time making small talk, she is very to the point, and asks me questions right up front.

Between bites she inquires, "What's you're favorite color?"

I tell her blue-which is true, I love blue because it's the color of the sky-and then ask why. The designs are supposed to be made entirely by the stylists with no tribute input whatsoever.

"Because, I have the district 11 costumes designed in all colors, I just couldn't decide. I figured I would leave it up to you." She smiles at me. "If anyone asks we'll say that we chose blue because there's a beautiful blue flower in the fields of 11. Deal?"

I giggle a little at her 'secret'. "Of course."

We finish our lunch and she works out the final aspects of our chariot costumes. She explains that agriculture is a hard district trade to reflect in clothing. I agree with her, and I'm actually surprised that the end result does look interesting, and it does have a hint of district 11, but for the most part it's just strange.

I'm in a pair of denim overalls with small sequins all over the fabric. Then, under the overalls I wear a shirt with puffy sleeves, made of a metallic blue fabric. Savera compliments my color choice say 'it compliments the denim nicely.'

On my head she's designed an intricate crown, that appears as though it had been woven out of vines and leaves, though it is made of a tough silver metal. I find myself finding similarities between it and my sister-or Katniss. Beautiful, but tough and strong enough to survive, in the end I think the headpiece is the only part of my costume that I genuinely like.

The rest of it is too 'Capitol' for a district 11 girl like me.

It makes no difference if I like it. This is going to be about getting sponsors. I have to get sponsors, if I'm going to assist Katniss, and this is my goal now. Help Katniss win; it seems simple enough, though something tells me it won't be.

When it's finally time to meet Thresh and his stylist down by our chariot we arrive a little early. There are only a few other districts' tributes here. I take the opportunity to learn. It's amazing how much you can learn by just _watching _a person. You can get to know them so much faster.

The only tributes here now are the ones from 3, 2, and 10. I study the people in the room who appear to be the largest threats.

The boy by the name of Cato, from 2, seems menacing, and powerful, but I sense his mind lacks a filter. Just by watching his interactions with his stylist and district partner I can tell he's missing the thing most people posses-the thing that stops certain words or actions before it's too late. He seems to think less and use instinct more, which could be an advantage-or a disadvantage.

Then I study his district partner, Clove-wanting to learn as much about the careers as possible. She's not huge, though she's larger than me. I can't see her operating any type of large or heavy weapon, which leaves knives, swords, bows, or the occasional spear. Maces, axes, or any other heavy weapon would overpower her and cause her to lose her balance.

I also find that she seems to be the opposite of Cato. It almost looks like she over thinks things too much, and relies on instinct too little. This is also a problem in the arena.

Finally my eyes wander to the boy from three. I can't quite recall his name, but he seems to be smart. By now, other tributes are filing in, but I'm still watching this boy from 3. He looks young, but he appears to have some sort of confidence. I find this odd, but he must have some skill to guarantee some safety in the arena.

I watch him for a while, searching for a hint of his special talent. I don't find anything, other than his hands, which move in an almost mechanical manner, which isn't surprising. 3's skill is technology.

I give up trying to guess at his talent when I can no longer focus. When all the tributes are ready for the parade and we prepare to go, I find myself looking at Katniss to keep calm. I smile, and remember that Thresh is beside me-a little piece of home here in the Capitol.

We parade through the streets for twenty minutes waving and smiling, while the crowd cheers wildly for the district 12 tributes. I know they will have sponsors, thanks to their fiery debut.

When we reach the city center Prescient Snow gives a few words, and we're whisked away, back to the confines of our living quarters.

As soon as we're alone with the mentors, stylists, and escort, we are congratulated. They tell us that we looked amazing, though I hear the grumble, the dissent, which I'm sure the district 12 tributes have brought up in them. They're jealous, I think wryly-because, really, who would be jealous of the fiery clothes designed for those meant to die?

I chuckle to myself, and the adults look at me questioningly. I brush off their concerns, and head off to bed.

As I lay in bed I find myself thinking about Katniss-and Peeta. I should have known there was something more between them; the hand-holding was actually kind of sweet. There was a touch of rebellion there too, but it's only just noticeable for people like me. The people from the poorest districts of Panem, who have spent lifetimes picking apart the Capitol, and trying to find just the slightest inkling of those who wish to rebel.

Katniss and Peeta have given them this hope. I stop short, mid-thought. That's what they have done. This years tributes from 12 have given the people hope. A special kind of hope, that when paired with the right kind of anger, can lead to change-permanent change.

I smile as I replay the opening ceremonies in my head. I watched Katniss and Peeta the entire time, utilizing the screens that we were broadcasted on. Katniss and Peeta were on screen nearly the entire time-which worked out in my favor. I could watch them-read them-without being obvious.

Over time I have perfected this skill of mine-watching people undetected. Katniss's eyes were uneasy the entire time, and her body-though she tried to look at ease-held a semi-rigid pose during the ride. She didn't seem used to being the center of attention and it showed then.

As the ride proceeded she seemed to relax, and she even looked hopeful near the end. Maybe she finally saw how large of a competitor she is. The fire in her eyes turned into a blaze, that quickly overtook the hint of hopeless that used to reside there.

I smile at the thought of her giving up-because I know she never will. If she does die in the arena she will go out fighting, as hard as possible, for her sister. She won't go down without a fight, and neither will I. I think we'll make a good team-if she considers me an ally.

Then I think about Peeta. He was calm and at ease in the crowd, as if he was born for this. He took it all in with a calm, yet calculating eye-kind of like me. The thing that struck me as odd was how he didn't react in the slightest to everyone cheering "Katniss!" No one cheered for Peeta, and he didn't even get the slightest bit jealous-and I _know_ he can't hide his emotions like Katniss.

Peeta looked a little unsteady when I saw Katniss try to let go of his hand. His calm wavered and panic had flashed across his face. He had muttered something to her, and she kept her almost bone crushing hold on his hand. She had almost look relieved to _not _have to let go.

I smile to myself at the thought-they must be friends… _good _friends.

Well, this years games may be the most interesting yet.

* * *

**Hey readers, It's me! I just wanted to say thanks for all the views, and thanks for reviewing-those of you that did. What do you think of the new chapter? I know I kind of skimmed through the opening ceremonies, but that was by design. Rue is only 12. I wanted some of her time in the Capitol to fly by like a blur. **

**Also, I am open to suggestions on Rue's time in the arena, because we all know she wasn't with Katniss the whole time. Let me know, review or PM me. **

**Thanks **

**R&R**


	5. Private Session

Chapter 5

Private Sessions

The next morning consists of breakfast, and preparations for the training center. We will have three days to learn as much as possible about staying alive. Seeder and Chaff instruct me to learn to build fires, determine edible plants (the ones I don't already know), and use some of the smaller weapons.

The only part of their advice that I don't think I will consider is using the weapons. They are trying to encourage the weapons but, honestly who are they kidding? I can't learn to use a weapon well enough in three days to take anyone out in the arena. I'm just too small.

The other advice they offered is actually valuable. I have no idea what kind of arena I will be thrust into and looking into edible plants, and making fires could be useful.

I also know that I need some strategy for the cornucopia, I need to leave with some supplies. Without anything I won't last long, there are just too many things that could go wrong without any kind of supplies.

After breakfast Seeder and Chaff send Thresh and I down in an elevator to the training center. It's located underground and the elevator ride is thrilling. I almost laugh at the feel of us gliding through floor after floor. I think about what Prine's reaction would be to this, and I smile. She would be so excited-and she would want to do it again and again.

I sigh, and the elevator doors open. I take in the area, and my first thought is how it's so grey. Everything is a standard slate grey with each section having it's own touch. The edible plants station is covered in parts of plants and greenery. The fire building station is in some tall grass, and there's tinder and wood everywhere.

I also look over the circle of tributes. It's an interesting mix of people. I also notice that everyone here has his or her district number pinned to the back of his or her shirt. Someone pins an 11 to my back just as I realize this, and Thresh and I make our way to the circle of tributes.

For a few moments we stand in our tribute circle, completely silent, everyone just taking in the competition. I immediately notice that the tributes we're waiting on are the ones from 12, Katniss and Peeta. As we wait I realize that my mentors have failed to instruct me to use my strongest talent-my spying skills.

They _should _have told me to watch everyone, because my best skill is determining other people's skills. This is very beneficial to the arena, because I will have the upper hand on every tribute-knowing their skills, and consequently their weaknesses. Most tributes try and hide their skills from the others in the arena, but they don't do this well.

The dumbest ones try to make it seem as though they are clueless when at the station of their greatest asset. The smarter ones act like they know a little here or there, just as they do at all the other stations. However, the smartest ones avoid their station completely, until they're alone with the Gamemakers. This keeps all the other tributes in the dark, while it allows the Gamemakers to see their skills privately. It also gives the tribute the upper hand, if they know their skill well enough to not need practice.

Ten minutes later, after standing for a while the other tributes start looking uneasy the two we've been waiting for appear. They're dressed identically, and I have to fight a smile-they're a team once again. Whoever has orchestrated this is a genius. Whatever relationship Katniss and Peeta have is being used as a strategy-and a well executed strategy at that. They remain side by side as they join the group, and the other tributes eye them skeptically.

I know that Katniss will begin to squirm under everyone's stares quickly, so I avert my eyes, and to her relief a woman named Atala begins briefing us on the training center and the stations. I fight a smile once again, because I know that while Katniss would have been uncomfortable, rather than let it show she would have went into lock down.

She would have replaced her expression with her emotionless mask, and kept her posture the same as it is now. She has perfected her lockdown mode. To anyone less perceptive it would seem as though she is simply deep in thought, though others would know that she is shielding her emotions from the outside.

When Atala dismisses us I lock my eyes on Katniss-and consequently Peeta. Peeta appears to be snapping Katniss out of her thoughts, and they make their way to the knot tying station. I almost follow them, but I think better of it. I will learn more from watching them from afar, as long as I keep it subtle I can pick apart their skills and weaknesses, and hopefully discover the dynamic between them-because there is definitely _something. _

I move to an adjacent station, which happens to be the camouflage station. As I perfect the art of blending in with my surroundings-which is easier than I thought it would be, it helps being small-I watch Katniss and Peeta. It quickly becomes clear why Katniss selected their station. She can set up traps with rope or wires easily, and the trainer excitedly teaches her a trap that will leave a competitor dangling from one leg in a tree.

Over our three days of training I glean new knowledge of my competitors.

Marvel, the boy from 1, has good aim with a spear and he's large which gives him an advantage in hand to hand combat. His district partner is small, but she is a career which means she is great with weapons. Though I notice that neither of them bothers to stop at any of the survival stations.

Cato, the boy from 2 is deadly in almost all ways, though as I had suspected, he relies too heavily on his instincts, and they are often unreliable. Clove, his partner is smart, and good with knives, though she is also great at hand to hand, which is surprising for a girl, especially one only slightly larger than Katniss. They also didn't bother to visit the survival stations.

As I had suspected Katniss seems to know how to survive. As she and Peeta make their way through the day, trying different stations, I make it a point to follow them, while keeping my distance. Peeta excels at camouflage, while Katniss can select edible plants easily. Peeta is also great at hand to hand combat, while Katniss has uncanny accuracy with knives-in fact, she's the only person who holds a candle to Clove when it comes to knives.

Katniss doesn't seem to notice this fact, though all the Careers do. They all look jealous, and it makes me think she might become an even bigger target-_great._

I also learned a lot about the dynamic of the Career pack this year. They seem to have chosen Cato as their leader over their meals in the training center, and he is more than willing to take over. Cato and Clove are closer than most of the district partners, but not romantically, more like as allies. I think that when the Career pack splits up they will remain as solid allies.

I also think that the weakest link of the Career pack is the boy from 1. He seems too independent to stay with the group for long, and I think he will be one of the first to break the alliance. I noticed that the boy from district 3 also has worked his way into the Career pack this year. Usually the Careers are only from district 1, 2, and 4.

Finally I notice that Katniss and Peeta's relationship-whatever it was-is changing. The first few days at lunch they put up a friendly front, talking and laughing during their meal. Though towards the end of the few days it feel forced-the laughs a little too loud, or the jokes a little too funny-and I notice that they seem to be struggling to make conversation.

Peeta seems like a good man though. I know that he's noticed my careful surveillance. He mentioned it to Katniss on day two of training but I couldn't hear her response. All I know is that she snapped at him, and he didn't even snap back-he has amazing patience with her, even when she's irritable.

I also have discovered something I didn't know about myself. I can hit a target almost every time with a slingshot. This encourages me, not because I think it will make a good weapon, but because it can throw sounds, and sounds distract people, or animals away from a target-just long enough for someone to escape. I practice it for sometime, and I resolve to either get a slingshot at the cornucopia or craft one myself in the arena.

With a vague plan outlined in my thoughts I feel a little less anxious about the arena. I also think I might have an idea for my private session with the Gamemakers.

We all wait nervously in the dining room-none of us sure how to proceed-as they call us one by one in for our private Gamemaker sessions. They work their way down from district 1to 12 and they take each male tribute first, so as the group dwindles it's down to Thresh, Peeta, Katniss, and I.

While we were waiting I sensed that there was some sort of a 'chill' between them, they didn't seem as comfortable as before-but then again who would? The closer we get to the arena the more uneasy everyone will be, and this puts people on edge.

When they call me in it leaves Katniss and Peeta alone, I can't help but feel sorry for the awkward situation they're in. However I quickly refocus my attention on the task at hand.

Seeder and Chaff had said to play up my strengths: climbing, jumping from tree to tree, observing others, and apparently firing a slingshot. Thresh had said to show them the innocence they're depriving the world of using my voice. I've decided to try both-the worst they can do is give me a zero.

I go in and I immediately see that they are not paying attention anymore. The Gamemakers are engrossed in their feast, and their alcohol. It irritates me that I'm going to die, and they can't even bother to show the least bit of respect-another reminder of their superiority. Personally, I see nothing superior of tormenting the weaker man, which is exactly what the Capitol does to the districts.

I clear my throat-though it's unnecessary-and gain a bit of attention. Then I begin to sing.

_There's a beautiful place somewhere, _

_And I hope that it's close to here. _

As I sing I climb on the provided ropes course, and I jump around, using the supports of the ceiling as my makeshift trees. I fly around the training center, my voice ringing loud and clear through the open space.

_There's a beautiful place out there,_

_And I hope that it's close to here._

_A place with love, a place with joy._

_A place for rest, a place for happiness!_

_And I know it's where we'll go, because..._

_There's a beautiful place out there,_

_And I know it's not far from here._

At the end of the song I am at the slingshot station, and I shoot at several different targets, which I hit, while I take in the Gamemakers responses.

A few look surprised, and several look a little sad. Majority of them are distracted still, but there are one or two who appear to be genuinely moved by my song, my talents, or a mixture of both. This gives me hope that my score may not be terrible.

That night our dinner is a flurry of questions. What did you do for them? How did they react? How long did you have? Did they seem interested?

And a flood of answers. Sang, climbed, jumped, shot things with a slingshot. They were surprised, some were sad. A few minutes, maybe five. Not really, but there were two who looked like they actually cared.

Seeder and Chaff take in all the information provided by both Thresh and myself. They say that we should expect lower scores, because we went so close to last, but that our scores have been consistently higher than 12's in the past years and we should stand out more than them.

If only I could shake my head and tell them 'If you think that Katniss wil go unnoticed you've got another thing coming.' She isn't one to be ignored, especially not with her life on the line.

After our meal we're herded into the living room to see the scores. Everyone gathers to watch the pictures and scores fly by. The careers all pull solid eights to tens. The other districts seem to earn about a five all around. When we finally make it to Thresh we all inch forward in our seats and grip the chairs tightly. Thresh pulls a nine! A nine! That's as good as-and better than-some of the Careers!

"A nine!" I yell excitedly and turn to him. "Congratulations." He accepts my praise with a small smile, and the anticipation for my score sends us all into our silence again.

My picture comes up and I feel my hear racing. Seeder warned me not to expect higher than a four, because I am so small, and no one from 11 ever gets high scores. When my score comes up I squeal in shock and delight.

I got a seven! A seven! That's so surprising, and good at the same time. They must have thought I had potential. It makes me smile widely, as I accept everyone's praise.

Finally Peeta and Katniss have to receive their scores I tense up in anticipation. Peeta gets an eight-which is great for a tribute from 12, or any tribute really. The stunner is Katniss. Whatever she did must have been a hit, because she earned herself an 11. I giggle a little at the outcome. _I knew she wouldn't go unnoticed. _

The room is now silent, our scores outshined by the tributes from 12. How anticlimactic. I break the silent stillness by raising myself from the couch and telling everyone, "Goodnight."

As I walk to my room I find that the closer I get to my bed the only thought I can form is: _way to go girl on fire. _

* * *

**Hey there readers! I'm posting this new chapter to keep it moving along. I will be trying to post a few times each week. Thanks for all the support and reviews. Constructive criticism really helps :). Reviews make my day, and I thank you all for each and every one of them. **

**What did you think of Rue's time with the Gamemakers? I thought is was risky to have her sing, but I thought about how she could have gotten their attention, and I figured it had to have been her voice. Let me know what you thought. **

**Thanks,**

**R&R**


	6. Interview Prep

Chapter 6

Interview Prep

When I wake up the next morning, I realize that my body has finally adjusted to the time change. I'm now waking up closer to five than four. That's a relief, because I think the arena time will be closer to Capitol time than district 11's time. I think that is part of the reason for all this time spent in the Capitol-adjusting to the time change. Because, really, where's the fun in watching tributes sleep at random intervals in an arena?

The thought makes me a little angry-it's just one more way the Capitol turns this into one big game. I suppose for them it is. We aren't human in their eyes. To the Capitol citizens we are abstract _ideas_, and no one really cares when we're gone. To them it's just a show-make believe-because they are more or less unaffected by the outcome. They will not lose a child, or be reaped themselves. They have no reason to fear.

As I make my way to breakfast I remind myself that today is the last day of training. Tomorrow we will go to the arena. I shiver a little at the thought, but I know I have a mission. I am going to help Katniss as much as possible. I know there must be a way for me to aid her-whether she knows I've helped her or not.

When I reach the table I take a deep breath. I've resolved to try to eat more. I know that Prine, and my other family members would disapprove of me not eating this food for their sakes. I also feel confident that Prine will keep them fed, and teach Flux to help her as well.

For the first time since arriving in the Capitol I take note of the foods on the table. This morning there is a stew of some sort. There's dried plums in it, and everyone's pouring it over wild rice. I take a small portion of the stew and rice, though I also take another roll from 11. The flavor of district 11's bread brings me comfort.

The stew is good, and I finish it quickly. I also try dipping bits of my roll from 11 into the stew's sauce. It fills me up and keeps my hands busy. I accompany the meal with a glass of water, and I feel full quickly.

Seeder and Chaff have been conversing quietly for some time now, and I find myself wondering what they are arguing about. Just as I'm about to ask they address Thresh and I.

"I know you both said you wanted to be trained together, but for today it will be more effective to coach you alone. Is that alright?" Seeder asks, fearing our response.

I laugh a little. "Is that what you two were fighting about for the last twenty minutes?" I giggle again. "I don't care at all. Whatever works best." I shrug and turn to Thresh.

He just nods.

Seeder looks relieved, but also a little shocked-probably at my reaction.

"Well, ok then. Topazma is going to coach you for the first part of the day Rue. Then we will switch and you will work with Chaff and I." She relaxes and finishes her breakfast with the schedule for the day all sorted out.

As soon as Topazma has finished eating she whisks me off to a large room, which has little furniture in it. It is much grander than any room I have ever been in, but I keep my comments to myself. She takes in my appearance for a moment, and she seems to be restraining herself.

"Innocence." I hear her mutter-almost a reminder to herself. Then she walks over to a closet that I hadn't noticed before. It's full of over a hundred dresses ranging from ball gowns to simpler casual sundresses. She paws through the assortment carefully.

A few moments later she addresses me. "Rue, could you go put this on?" She hands me a hanger, with a long, soft pink dress on it. I have to hold it above my head to keep it from dragging on the floor. She also puts a pair of matching shoes in my hand, and turns me toward an adjacent dressing room.

It takes me a few moments to get into the dress, but when I do I find that it makes me smile. The pink is a beautiful warm color, and it was Prine's favorite color. Also the dress is floor length gown, that has Tule-which I was taught about by Savera-over the full skirt to make it into a ball gown.

The top has straps that fall off my shoulders, and my hair, being down, brushes my bear arms. Though majority of the dress is pink, there's a purple ribbon that circles my middle ending with a large bow that falls to my left side. The purple accent to the pink dress is a nice touch in my mind.

Though I know that this is not my actual interview dress, I find that I like it. When I step out from behind the curtain wearing the elegant sandals Topazma selected, in the same shade of purple as the bow, she compliments me.

"Wow, Rue, you look beautiful." I smile at her, but before I can respond she returns her attention to the large closet. A few seconds later she turns to me holding a pair of purple gloves-the same shade as the bow on my dress-made of a dainty lace, and a headpiece.

I slip the gloves on, and they come up to my elbows. They compliment the dress and shoes well, and they bring out the purple more. The headpiece is the part that I immediately fall in love with. It's my headpiece from the opening ceremonies costume, only now it's not silver. It's purple, which only makes it more beautiful. She fixes it to my head and steps back.

"Now, you're perfect." This time she allows me to speak.

"Thank you. I like this." I twirl a little.

"Now, have a seat. We're going to pretend this is the interview. There are a few things to remember when you're on stage. The first is that you must always sit up straight, you want to appear confident and proud, slouching isn't going to win you sponsors.

"Second, you need to speak clearly and calmly. No stuttering or clamming up, nerves are pointless, no one is judging you." _No one except the sponsors and the rest of Panem, _I think bitterly.

"Third, you must keep eye contact either with Caesar, the audience, or the cameras. The more you keep eye contact the more _real _you become to the people. And the more real you are the more likely you will be to get sponsors. Also never forget to say thank you-knowing Caesar he will tell you how fabulous you look."

I nod at her instructions, taking them all in. She spends the next few hours talking to me, and periodically reminding me to "sit up straight" or "speak louder". By the end of our session I can consistently make it through an entire 'interview' without stuttering or slouching.

I can also make it to and from the 'stage' without tripping on my dress or stumbling from my shoes. When she tells me we're finished I ask her if I should take off the dress.

She thinks about it for a minute. "No, actually I would rather you didn't. It will be good practice for you to wear it for the day. You can practice walking in it and sitting properly in it."

"Ok," I say with a smile and walk back to the living quarters, using the hall Topazma showed my earlier. I pass Thresh in the hall, and he looks at my elaborate outfit.

"Topazma?" He guesses.

"Yup. I'm supposed to be practicing." I smile.

"Nice headpiece." Now he's smiling too. If my family taught me one thing it's that music and smiles are similar-they're both contagious.

"Thanks. It's my favorite part."

"Yeah. Well… wish me luck." He looks nervous.

"You'll do fine. But good luck anyways." I say with a smile.

Then I walk down the hallway to meet Seeder and Chaff. They're waiting for me on the couch.

"Wow. You look amazing Rue." Seeder is excited to see me, while Chaff just looks pained-I'm getting tired of people looking at me with pity.

"She did a nice job with the guideline we gave her." I notice that the word 'guideline' isn't plural when Chaff speaks.

"Yeah. I think this highlights innocence." I say with a smile, finally understanding why Topazma had muttered that very word before choosing my dress earlier.

"Yeah…did she tell you that?" Seeder sounds confused.

"More or less." I admit sheepishly. "I kind of overheard her muttering." I smile a little.

"You're very perceptive." Chaff says. "And intelligent, to have known that's what I meant by 'guideline'."

Seeder just nods and smiles, "That's what I've been telling you all along."

I smile at her support.

"Well, since you already know what angle we're going for with the interview lets just ask some questions and see what you've got."

So, my day proceeds with Seeder and Chaff asking me questions, me responding and them giving me feedback, until they feel certain that I can manage the interview on my own.

With their approval I change into some regular clothes, before I set off with Savera to be prepped for my interview.

* * *

**Hi there readers! Thanks for taking the time to read this chapter. It's ****_not _****my best, by far, but it needed to be here to get us from the training to the interview itself. It was important, even if it was boring. Anyways, let me know what you thought of it. Keep in mind that this fanfic is staying as close to the book in details as possible. Anything else (like the Capitol technology from a few chapters back) is probably from the movie, or my imagination. **

**Since I'm keeping it to the books it means that Rue's costume will be the one described in The Hunger Games on page 126. Just a heads up. **

**I'm open to ideas for Rue's time in the arena when she's not with Katniss, but I do have some ideas of my own... :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**R&R**


	7. Interviews

Chapter 7

Interview

As soon as I reach my prep team I see that changing into regular clothes was futile. They strip me and begin "making me beautiful" all over again. This time it's less painful and it takes less time because I only need to have my hair, make up, and nails done-though having my nails done involves lots of _scraping_ which is highly unpleasant.

When I am finally presentable-with my hair down, but elegant, my nails and make up complete-Savera comes into the room. She totes with her a large garment bag that I presume contains my interview dress. She smiles at me, and hands me the dress.

"This is it?" I ask nervously.

"If you mean is that your dress, then the answer is yes." She says with a smile.

"Ok then." I say, resolved to tolerate whatever crazy design is in this bag.

"It's not as bad as you think it is." She assures me, noticing my hesitation.

"Yeah?" I ask skeptically, because I know my definition of 'not so bad' is very different from the Capitol's.

"I tried to keep it very simple." Savera says with a conspiratorial wink, and I suddenly understand what she is saying: she tried to keep it free of the _Capitol._ I know this only works to an extent, but I am less fearful as I take the dress with me behind the curtain, separating the dressing room from the main prep room.

With the curtain closed, I take a deep breath, and unzip the garmet bag revealing the dress. I inhale sharply in surprise. I actually like the dress. It's simple, but not from my home.

The dress is made of a blue gossamer fabric, and there are wings attached to the back. I smile widely-the wings remind me of my Mockingjays. They stretch out only a few inches out from the shoulders of the dress, making them most noticeable from behind. The whole thing is a beautiful and I slip it over my head quickly.

I look at myself in the full size wall mirror. As I move the skirted part of the dress shimmers. It is simple, but not too simple, and it has just enough Capitol to get me some sponsors-I hope. I'm careful when I walk in this dress, because it feels fragile, and I find that I am using the tread I use in the trees-the soft footfalls that don't break or snap any of the thin branches under my feet.

I pull the curtain back and step out in front of Savera. She looks me up and down, and steps closer. She adjusts my hair, pinning two bows into it crafted of the same material as my dress. She also drops a pair of shoes at my feet. They are simple flats in the same shade of blue as the dress.

She steps back once again to survey her work. This time she must be satisfied, because she pulls me into a hug. Being almost the same height her head rests on my shoulder.

She releases me and steps back, keeping her hands on my shoulder. Then she kisses my forehead.

"You've got this." She assures me.

"Thanks," I manage to squeak out.

"Don't be nervous. You are so brave."

"Ugh! I wish people would stop saying that." I know it's useless, but I have to try.

"Why? It's true, you know. It really is. You are so brave. I know you don't believe it, but others do. And I do too."

"Yeah. That doesn't make it easier to hear." I'm grumbling to myself now, but Savera catches every word.

"As a wise man once said, 'Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death'. That is true about you. Therefore, you are brave." I know it's pointless to argue-and I find that I do like her definition of bravery.

I sigh. Savera gives me a sympathetic smile and leads me into the hall, where Seeder and Chaff are waiting with Thresh. Together we head off to the interview floor, and we are quickly back stage. The other tributes have gathered in a line here, waiting for the 'go ahead' call that will signal us to take our seats on stage.

I watch the tributes as we wait. I notice that everyone-even the Careers-are nervous. They all show subtle signs, picking at their nails, or swaying from side to side. I notice, however, that Peeta doesn't seem to be scared of the interview-though something is bothering him.

Before I can pinpoint the cause of his unease we are motioned onto the stage. I steel my shoulders, and take careful steps out until I reach my chair. I sink into it willingly, with Thresh to my right.

There are so many people, and the cheers make it hard for me to think. Caesar quickly reigns in the crowd, and tells a few jokes-the intent, is to warm up the crowd, but I see the ulterior motive most people wouldn't. This small pause before beginning is to allow us tributes to adapt. Adapting to the crowd and lights takes some time, and the tributes from 1 need some time to readjust.

A few seconds later the interviews pick up and I watch intently, looking for anything new. I glean nothing from the Careers interviews-mostly they just want to intimidate the rest of us.

The girl from five is using an angle that really isn't an angle at all. She cleverly avoids each question, almost always teasing the audience or the Capitol. She gives nothing obvious away about herself-and she avoids the topic of her private session with the Gamemakers. This tells me what I need to know though-she is clever, and sly. This display was simple for her, though I doubt the other tributes know that.

The other tributes continue to fly by quickly and I soon find that Caesar is calling me.

"Rue!" I stand when I hear my name, and make my way over to him-using my soft footfalls, the ones for the trees.

"Welcome! Welcome, Rue. Beautiful, sweet, little Rue." He smiles at me, his blue lips stretching over his teeth.

"Thank you." I say, settling down, and adjusting my shoulders slightly, so that my wings fall in a more natural way.

"Why, you are very welcome dear. Now Rue, I think I speak for _all _of Panem when I say we were impressed with you're composure at the reaping."

It's not a question, so I choose to play up my 'innocence' angle. "Well, Caesar, I'm not really sure what you're asking." I feign confusion, and the audience chuckles at my mistake-if I were any older they would take it as stupidity or nervousness.

"How did you manage to keep from falling apart? We know how hard it must have been for you."

_Do you? _I think sadly, _No, you have no idea how hard that was for me._

"I just told myself that I wanted to spend my last few days happy." I smile, tragically, at the cameras.

"So, you know your fate then?" He asks me, confused. No tribute has ever openly accepted their death-more or less-on national television.

"No… not in the sense you think." I say, purposely trying to confuse him-because yes I have accepted my fate, I just don't know what form it will come in.

"Um… alright then." He looks to be at a loss for a moment, and then he quickly refocuses the conversation. "So… Rue what did you do for the Gamemakers? A score of seven, that's quite impressive for someone your age."

"Well, it's supposed to be a secret, but lets just say I think I showed them that _I am more than who they think I am._ I do have _some _skills you know." I'm teasing, but not about the part where I showed the Gamemakers that I'm more than what I look like.

I glance over my shoulder taking in the other tributes, with a smile. Until I see Peeta-he's staring at me, his mouth slightly open in shock. I smile wider, _someone knows what I'm talking about, and he apparently can't seem to grasp that someone so _young _could understand such a complex topic._

I stifle a laugh.

"Oh, and can you enlighten us on your skills? What will be your greatest strength in the arena? What is your plan?" He seems bemused by my carefully calibrated innocence.

"I'm very hard to catch," I say simply, understating my ability to fly through the trees. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So, don't count me out." I finish boldly.

"I wouldn't in a million years." A smile lights up his face. "Now, before your time runs out, is there anything that you want to tell the people of district 11?"

"Only that I hope they remember me, and that I've cherished every moment with them." I smile sadly, knowing that I have to keep up the innocence act-though I also know that my family understands that my message is only for them. It's my final way of telling them that I love them.

The buzzer sounds, and Caesar composes himself. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you… Rue!" He says as I stand, courtesy, and, go back to my seat next to Thresh's now empty one.

With my interview behind me, I relax slightly. Then I remember who's after Thresh: Katniss.

Thresh's interview goes by quickly, and Caesar calls Katniss up.

Her interview goes by fast, and she doesn't really say anything too revealing-and nothing at all on her secret skill. The only highlight of her interview is her stylist's design. She is once again the Girl on Fire, and she is indeed fiery.

When her interview is complete I sigh in relief-her performance, however limited, is worthy of sponsors and the people love her.

Peeta comes up last, and I watch intently, anxious to learn his approach. It's easy to distinguish: he's charming.

Finally its clear Caesar hits a nerve-or in other words, the reason he was nervous before.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar looks very intrigued, and Peeta looks very uncomfortable.

Finally he sighs-as though he's admitting to some betrayal-then I understand. Being charming is only half his strategy; the other half is being in love. There's only one person I know that could intimidate someone as sweet and loveable as Peeta: Katniss.

I've never had to fight a smile so hard in my life. The nervousness, the fidgeting, the reluctance, it all points to one thing. Peeta Mellark is hopelessly in love with Katniss Everdeen-and if I'm interpreting the signs correctly she is about to find out. Along with the rest of Panem.

"Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

Once again I have to fight a smile-no Katniss does not know what is coming.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know but a lot of boys like her," Peeta allows reluctantly.

Translation: She has some kind of close guy friend, and or a powerful guy has staked his claim on her-a guy or relationship powerful enough to prevent Peeta Mellark from declaring his love sooner.

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn down then, eh?" Caesar has no idea how wrong he is.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning… won't help in my case," I sigh, this year's hunger games will tell a tragic love story-if Katniss plays this right.

"Why ever not?" I have to stifle a laugh, because Caesar is so clueless.

Peeta blushes a deep crimson, and stutters on his words. "Because…because… she came here with me." For a moment I feel bad for him-putting it all out there for a girl, and to make it all worse they were both slated for death, tomorrow at the earliest.

I look to Katniss for a reaction, though I seem to be the only tribute with a working brain at the moment. Her lips are pressed together and she's staring at the floor, her expression almost… pained. But a slow blush creeps onto her cheeks, and whether she knows it or not Peeta has some kind of a connection with her.

I miss Caesar and Peeta's further conversation.

Then Peeta's buzzer promptly goes off, signaling the end of his interview-giving the audience next to no time to react, and leaving them little time to finish their conversation.

The anthem plays, and then the tributes all file off the stage. We all climb into elevators-and I catch a glimpse of Katniss-slipping into the elevator farthest from the one containing Peeta. I smile a little, and go into Peeta's elevator.

There are about four other tributes with us, and a few stylists. They get off, one by one, until Peeta and I are the only two left. I read his expression, and it's clear he is uneasy. I think for a moment, then I break the tribute code of silence, "You did the right thing, I think."

He gives me a tentative smile. "You think?" He sounds skeptical, but he's being sincere with me, and he's not looking at me with pity-I like him already.

I consider his question carefully-but quickly because we're nearing the 11th floor-then I take a deep breath. "Yes, I think so. Katniss on the other hand, well… lets just say you should be careful when you get off the elevator."

He laughs at this, and I join him. "I'll be on guard. Thanks Rue." I can tell he feels better, and I'm surprised he knows my name.

"Not a problem Peeta." I smile, and then hop off the elevator onto my floor.

Seeder and Chaff are waiting to intercept me before I can head off to bed.

"This is the last time I will see you isn't it?" I ask cautiously.

"Not necessarily." I smile at Seeders reluctance to admit what we all know-I will not be returning from the arena.

"Any last bits of advice?" I ask, hoping for some advice about the Cornucopia.

"I think we covered almost everything. Get off your tribute plate as soon as possible, grab some supplies, and get out." Chaff says, covering a previous strategy we had looked at briefly.

"I got that already." I smile.

"You remember this: surroundings, supplies, assailants, and allies." Seeder reminds me gently.

"I know. But remind me why I have to look for attackers, _before _my allies-well possible allies.

"Because, if someone attacks you it's best to know who it is, so you can target exact weaknesses. Also, allies are only helpful, if you _know _you can count on them. Katniss doesn't know about your plan, so that means you will be on your own. If you are attacked you need to rely on yourself." Seeder uses a gently tone, but her orders are firm.

"Ok." I nod.

Seeder steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug. She whispers into my ear softly.

"I know you don't plan on coming out, but don't give up."

"Of course not."

"I'll look after your family." This brings tears to my eyes-I couldn't ask for anything more perfect than this-she will be fulfilling my dying wish.

"Thank you." My voice wavers.

"Good luck Rue." She steps back and Chaff steps forward.

"Do your worst." He smiles, and his confusing word choice leaves me speechless. I stand there dumbfounded, until he mouths 'the Capitol'.

I giggle, and nod, giving him a quick hug.

"Thanks for your time and dedication," I address them both. "You were the best mentors I could ask for."

"You were a pleasure to mentor." Seeder says, tears in her eyes. We all know this is our final goodbye.

I take a careful breath, to keep the tears in my eyes from spilling over, then I turn to my room, and get ready for bed.

As I drift off to bed, I consider this-my last night in the Capitol, my last night before the arena. There's no sense dwelling on what is to come. With a resigned sigh I roll over, and after an unknown amount of time, I drift off into a restless, fitful sleep.

* * *

**Hey! I am so so sorry for not updating for three days. I feel like such a bad person :(. I kept you amazing people waiting. Sorry, but in repentance for that (and the super short chapter last time) I wrote an extra long chapter for you this time. I hope you like it. What did you think of the mentor's goodbyes? Let me know what you think. I also want to ask what you think of my interview scenes with Caesar. Please Please Please let my know. Review or PM me. **

**I will also be updating again really soon. I am in a writing mood this weekend. :P**

**Also the 'wise man' Savera refers to in this chapter is Omar Bradley. I really liked that quote because it's so true.**

**Thanks **

**R&R**


	8. Arena

Chapter 8

Arena

I wake with a start and realize why I'm so jumpy today. I'm going into the arena. It's depressing to even think about how today's events could unfold. I _have _to make it through the day, I _have _to help Katniss.

That's my overarching plan for the arena, it breaks off into several smaller ideas when I consider all the steps that must lead up to aiding Katniss. I know that I have to get something from the cornucopia, and I have to find water. From there, the only thing set in stone is that I have to keep tabs on the Careers. I know that Katniss will see information on the Careers as valuable, and that could be helpful in us becoming allies in the near future.

I know that though some tributes would find my knowledge of food valuable, Katniss will get by just fine without my help. She's a whiz with snares and if I know her whatever talent she showed the Gamemakers is useful for getting food in the arena, or in 12. I think that is why she looks so much better fed then the other tributes from 12, she can catch food on her own.

No wonder she has that glint of fire in her eyes, she needs it to survive-and in turn keep her sister alive. Thinking of Primrose makes me think of Prine, and that sends my thoughts spiraling out of control.

I'm fearing the worst, but I know that's irrational, Prine is strong and so is Flux. At the worst they will support the family on their own for a while, until my parents accept my death, and then things will settle down into the old pattern of life.

I know that Prine will follow my instructions, and keep my Mockingjay friends close. She will sing to them as I used to, and hopefully use them to signal the end of our working hours. I smile widely when I think of just how well Prine will replace me. My little sister is so like me.

Savera meets me in my room before I can head out of my room. She gives me a simple change of clothes and leads me to roof of the building. I take a moment to relish the sunrise, which I can see so clearly from the roof. I have no indication of what to expect in the arena-for all I know this could be the last time I see sunlight.

All of the sudden a hovercraft appears above me, and a ladder drops down. I hop onto it, grasping the bars tightly, only to find my caution was unnecessary-I am a statue. I'm frozen in place, completely unable to move.

The ladder moves, pulling me into the hovercraft. It's large, and metal though for something so large it is remarkably steady. A Capitol nurse comes up to me brandishing a needle.

"This is your tracker. The current is holding you in place so you don't move while I place it."

The only things I can move are my eyes, so I just look at her calmly. I take a deep breath, preparing for the sting that I know will come. This is just the beginning of the pain, I presume.

I find it odd that in an arena full of cameras they have to track the tributes individually, as though one could just disappear. I want to laugh at the idea.

The ladder releases me when the tracker is imbedded deeply in my arm. Savera is brought up on a similar ladder to my own, and an avox leads us to a section of the hovercraft where our breakfast has been spread out.

I watch the view out the windows, thinking that this is as close as I will ever be to flying-to being with the Mockingjays, to _being _a Mockingjay. I smile in content, as I pick at my food, not really hungry.

About half an hour later the windows black out, and my stomach tenses in anxiety, because I know that this means we will arrive soon. Savera directs me to the shower, and I clean up-knowing full well this may be my last opportunity. I take time washing out my hair, because I have no knowledge of procedure when it comes to returning a dead tribute, and I think my hair should look semi-clean if this is what I will look like when my casket returns to 11. I want to look like the Rue they remember, and there will simply be no helping the fatal wound-washing out my hair now is all I can do.

Savera puts a small section of my hair in a braid, and rubber bands it in place. She smiles as she works, content with our silence. When my clothes arrive she looks them over, and hands them to me.

Light green top, beige pants, sturdy running boots, that honestly are not suited for climbing trees, a belt, and a long hooded black jacket.

They are simple, and the same for each tribute. Another way for the Capitol to make us little more than animals, we all look the same, with nothing to make us individuals; these procedures are designed to distance us from the terrible truth of the Hunger Games. The children we see are real people-real human children who _had _beating hearts, and working lungs. Right up until the Capitol took away their most guaranteed right: their right to live.

Savera considers my jacket for a moment, and addresses it in a detached voice.

"This is going to reflect your body heat. That's beneficial in cool weather, but if it's warm take it off as quickly as possible to avoid dehydration." I nod at her instructions.

"And you have your district token?" She knows this is a futile question, I haven't taken my necklace off since I arrived in the Capitol. It's waterproof, and it was easily displayed by both my costumes in the Capitol. I wanted them to see it. I wanted them to see I had them with me.

"Yes." I confirm.

"It all fits well?"

I consider the nature of this question for a moment. If I were to say no would they have a smaller or larger size prepared? Or would they simply say 'too bad', in an overly apologetic way? "I'm sorry but at this time there is nothing we can do to help you with your particular predicament." Then thrust me into the arena.

I test out the clothes, moving in all the ways I usually do, and they fit fine. When I tell her so she only nods.

"I guess that's it." I say simply, not sad, just resolved.

"Don't say that. You will do good things." She sounds like Prine.

"Ok." She hugs me close when she hears my disbelieving tone.

"Thank you Savera. For everything, you really are a good person." I am not lying to her.

"Thanks. I only wanted to help make this all easy for you." I almost laugh-how to sugarcoat a death sentence, I can honestly say I've never considered the idea.

"You did." This might be a lie, I really can't make sense of my thoughts, and nerves are closing in on me.

"Don't worry too much." Again with the senselessness, does she not hear what she's saying?

"Ok." I sigh, and my fear twists in my stomach again. I am completely terrified now.

For some time we sit silently. I only get up when an announcer says we must prepare for launch. I step toward the circular metal plate, but Savera catches my arm and pulls me into a tight hug.

Her face close to my ear she breathes, "You deserve better than this, don't let them forget you."

I'm touched by her words, and I know she means them. I smile at her and nod. Then I step onto the plate fully, processing my body's response to life threatening danger. My heart is racing and it's pounding so hard I feel every beat. My breathing is deep, but only because I've forced it to be that way. My entire figure is shaking, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

A glass barrier slides down around me-and; just like that I'm prey. No more human than the animals in the woods. No laws apply here. It's kill or be killed. I've never disapproved of humans as a whole species more than in these moments, as I rise into the arena. The very place I'm sure I will breathe my final breath.

The metal plate it very sturdy as it raises me closer and closer to the sunlight. When my head pokes out into the open air my eyes have to readjust to the brightness. The air has a fresh scent that encourages me to take heed of Seeder's instructions and figure out where I am.

The plate has just clicked into position, when I hear Claudius Templesmith, and his ever-jovial voice boom into the arena, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

I know I have sixty seconds. That leaves fifteen seconds for each thing Seeder has left for me to do. I have to figure out _where_ I am. Directly in front of me is the mouth of the Cornucopia. It's gold metal is reflecting brightly into the clearing. The supplies there could keep a tribute going for months. There's a wide spread of weapons, food, and other various supplies.

To my back there's a steep cliff, which no one will go towards. To my left there's a lake, and to my right there's a field of tall grasses-grasses from home. I instantly long to go there, though I know my sort-of-ally, Katniss, has other plans. I watch Katniss for a moment, and see where she's headed. The tall woods directly behind her at a diagonal to her left. It will be a long run in the open for me, but I know that's where I must go.

Supplies. The only supplies close to me are the ones that I will go for. I scan the area around me in a ten-foot radius. I'm surprised to see a slingshot within my reach, not five feet from my metal circle. I will take that for sure. I also see a small backpack, which looks promising, in between the tribute closest to my right and I. Going for that could be risky. I decide to settle for a water skin and a small mound of something that looks like it could provide warmth if need be.

I move on to assailants. The tribute to my right is the small girl from 5, and she's preparing to bolt at the sound of the gong, not attack. The tribute to my left is the boy from 2, and he's only concerned with getting to the weapons, not taking out a wispy 12 year old like myself-not that he would catch me. The tributes on the other sides of them are too far to be able to reach a weapon and kill me before I am gone, at least halfway across this clearing, heading to the forest.

Finally, allies. I spot mine-though she doesn't know we're allies… _not yet._ Her gaze is fixed on something at the mouth of the Cornucopia: a bow and sheath of arrows. My sort-of-ally is a hunter. I smile, but that quickly fades, replaced with horror. She can't go for it. No! She'll be killed as soon as the first Careers reach the Cornucopia! She has sense! What is she thinking? She isn't thinking, I quickly realize, she's scared.

I'm scrambling-trying to find a way to get her attention before she runs to her death-when Peeta bails me out. With a slight shake of his head I see him dismiss her idea of going for the bow. For a second this gives me pause-he knows her talent-but I recover instantly because the gong sounds. My sixty seconds are up.

* * *

**Hey! Hope you all love this new chapter. I liked writing it... but not as much as I liked writing chapter 9... ;). Let me know what you think please. **

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	9. Careers

Chapter 9

Careers

I spring from the metal circle and snatch the slingshot up off the ground. I dive for the water skin, and reach it. Finally, I grab the bundle of what appears to be clothes. I have my supplies. Now I have to run.

I sprint faster than I ever have before toward the forest. I don't stop to see if anyone is following me, because who would be? Sometimes being twelve has its advantages. I get to the tree line completely unnoticed. I'm fastest in the trees, but it would be stupid to being climbing right now. In the few instants it took to scale this tree someone could have my throat slit-that wouldn't benefit Katniss in anyway.

I run, and keep running, stumbling a few times on some branches. I'm not used to uneven ground-everything in 11 is flat. I press farther into this unfamiliar forest, looking for water, but listening intently as the sounds of metal clanging on metal and children's dying screams fade with the distance.

When I can no longer hear the sounds of death emanating from behind me I select a tree with sturdy branches and begin to climb. The boots on my feet make it difficult to curl my toes around the branches, making me wobble a few times. It doesn't help that my hands are full, I'm still carrying my slingshot, and my water skin, and the bundle, which I have confirmed is clothes. I zipped the bundle up in the jacket when I was running, so it's not in the way as much, but the slingshot and water skin have made climbing an interesting task.

When I'm about 20 feet in the air I stop to rearrange my supplies. I tuck the slingshot into my belt, and make a note to collect some stones for ammunition later. I wedge the empty water skin into the bundle of clothes, and I survey fabrics. There's a sweatshirt, a spare jacket, and an extra pair of socks. I smile a little, it's good that I have some spare clothes; they'll help keep me warm at night.

I take a few deep breaths, and think about my next move. Water, I need water if I'm going to make it more than a few days. However, with that thought in mind, I also need to find Katniss.

I know that Katniss is a hunter, and I know that Katniss sets snares. I figure that will be my best bet for tracking her, finding her snares. With a few shaky breaths, I begin scanning the trees. Most of these types of trees are nothing like the ones from home. They are very tall, and the branches are thick near the trunk, and spindly as they extend from the tree. It will be tricky business 'flying' through them, however the farther I look into the forest the more variety I see. There are trees from home-ones that I know will provide food-and trees I have never seen before.

Directly in my line of sight there's a thick branch that would be a small leap. I consider making such a jump in the clunky arena boots-not a safe option. I perch myself expertly on my current branch, so I can easily remove them. They are too large for these branches, and it's easier for me to displace my weight accurately without them.

When they're off I consider taking off my socks as well. They may get caught or snagged in the trees, but in the end I decide to keep them on, getting my feet cut up on the first day won't really help me find water, or Katniss-though I am beginning to think the two may go hand in hand. Katniss will find water, and I will find Katniss-hopefully.

I'm beginning to regret passing up that small backpack at the Cornucopia-right now climbing would be easier without the hindrance of these supplies threatening to fall from my clutches. I think for a moment, and come up with a solution. I take the spare sweatshirt and knot the bottom and arms preventing anything from falling through the opening for my torso, or arms and plummeting to the ground. I stuff the spare jacket, and socks, and my boots into the sweatshirt and tie it around my waist using a knot I learned in training-that I can easily slip off with one tug, but that will securely hold my things.

I slide my water skin into an empty pocket of my original arena outfit jacket, and I now-with everything organized-feel much more balanced. The makeshift pack I have created seems to be holding up just fine, and I test it by climbing up a few more feet. It never threatens to fall, so I tentatively make the first leap, into a tree only two feet away. I land solidly, and soundlessly in my sock feet.

With this first hurdle complete my confidence grows, and I begin to look for food, and water. As I leap from tree to tree-gradually gaining elevation-I notice that the ground is sloping beneath me. I'm entering a valley. In terms of defense one would prefer a mountain to a valley, but in terms of finding water… this may be the best place to look.

Water flows downhill, so chances are that somewhere in this valley there is a lake or a clean pool of water. I will be unable to purify the water-though I doubt it's poisoned. The Gamemakers like bloody deaths, not one's that come quickly and quietly. I become a statue for a moment-just listening.

I know my best bet for finding water is listening for any sign of running water. In 11 I can hear the river even when we work in the orchards. It's only a small rushing sound, but it's distinguishable out in the quiet of the trees. I also know from experience that birds-Mockingjays especially-normally have flight patterns toward water in the early morning and late evening.

I can't hear a river, though I didn't expect to; it's more likely that I'm near a still body of water. If that's the case, my best bet will be searching for animals, or another clearing in the trees much like the one near the Cornucopia. I see no immediate signs of a break in the foliage so I continue leaping from tree to tree, my eyes trained on the ground below, and the branches under me.

Judging by the sun's position it's about two o'clock when I take my first rest. I've been moving solidly all day, and I desperately need some water. I know that there's no point in wallowing in self-pity at the moment, so I take advantage of my knowledge of the trees and find something to eat.

I scan the ground, looking for something that could provide me a meal. There's some plants nearby that I learned about in the training center-they have edible roots. I scamper down my tree and dig them up quickly. Just as I turn to climb back up my tree a cannon booms, startling me into rapidly scaling the fir's branches. When I'm safely in the air I tick off each boom. I count eleven.

That's eleven tributes that are no longer breathing. Eleven tributes that no longer possess beating hearts. But most importantly that's eleven _children_-none more than eighteen-who have been deprived of their right to simply exist. They have been murdered, and the death will not stop there. No, there are still twelve who must die, and one lone tribute will make it out of this arena. I can't imagine being that one-being a victor. It must be a living nightmare; I hope Katniss can handle it-though I know in my heart that she can.

I gnaw on the roots for a while-they taste fine, though they don't provide much moisture, and they're hard to swallow dry. With my stomach satiated I continue my quest for water.

When the sun begins to set I judge it to be about five. I've been here for at least half a day, and I still have no water. Without it I will last-at most-three days, though I suspect it will be less in this arena-it's very warm and there's little breeze.

The sun dips lower on the horizon, and I finally concede to sleeping tonight, without water, and without knowing where Katniss is in this vast forest. I climb as high as I dare-which I judge to be about a hundred feet-and select a fork in the branches that will easily support my weight. I notice the temperature dropping as the sun goes down, so I pull on the spare sweatshirt under my jacket, and use the spare jacket to cover my legs. My boots hold in heat, so I put them on to keep my feet warm, and I slide my hands into the spare socks.

I hear the occasional hoot of an owl as night falls, and I think of home. We have owls in 11, especially barn owls that fly around the orchards and in our food stores. It's a calming sound. Not so calming, however, are the dog howls, which come from all directions-I'm glad I'm in the air.

I drift off to sleep, only to be woken less than two hours later by the anthem, and the images of the dead being projected into the sky. Katniss is alive-as I expected, and so is Peeta. The Careers have made it through the day as well, except for the boy from 4.

As soon as the anthem and image projections are complete the sounds of the woods pick up. My sort-of-ally has made it through day one. I sigh in relief, and quickly drop back off to sleep.

* * *

My eyes fly open when I hear footsteps approaching me. Rather than panic-like I _should_-I freeze, listening. I'm trying to determine _who _is coming and what they're after. I hear a person shuffling around directly under my tree, though they don't seem to be armed, and I doubt they know I'm here.

I listen intently, until I realize they're attempting to gather firewood, in the dark, to start a fire and warm up. I feel bad for the unknown tribute, the only reason they are trying such a risky move is because they are cold. This isn't right. How, as a nation, have we allowed, and accepted even, things like this? I will never know.

I know that I must distance myself from this fire starter. The fire will be a beacon, pulling in whoever is nearby and thirsty for blood. I take off my boots and pull the spare jacket over my sweatshirt and jacket, as quietly as I can. This person is more concerned with lighting their fire than the possibility of a tribute in a tree nearby, so I'm not concerned.

My slingshot is still tucked in my belt, and the water skin-as empty as before-is zipped into my jacket pocket. I'm ready to move-in my special way. Just as I turn to make the first leap into an adjacent tree I see the flames begin to raise out of the kindling the tribute-who is female-is settling down to sleep next to it.

I wait about fifteen minutes, and when I'm sure she's dropped off into a deep sleep I leap from tree to tree, utilizing the light from her fire and the moonlight to locate the branches. I move from tree to tree until I reach a patch of willows, which appear to go in a wide arc-I can't avoid them. Willows are not conducive for jumping from branch to branch, their branches dangle, and cannot aid me. I sigh, and settle down here to try and get some more sleep. It's too late, and too dark for me to consider climbing down and continuing on foot to get around the willows, and I don't want to double back.

From here I can still see the flames, but I won't be shown be the flickers of light. I can rest here, still a good hundred feet in the air-without worrying that someone will spot me. I keep my boots off this time, and simply drift off in the sweatshirt and two jackets, ignoring the chill on my feet and legs.

* * *

This morning I don't awake an hour before dawn, I awake a few hours too soon. At first I assume that there was another time change, but I quickly realize why I awoke so soon. Someone is coming. I listen for a moment, and I determine that there is more than one person-probably between five and six people. I don't dare try to move now, it will only alert them of my presence.

They run towards the girl-who I assume was still sleeping by her fire-and she puts up no fight. They have her before she can even run. I can just make out the words "No! No, please! I-" before the begging quickly becomes a tormented scream. I wince. It's not right-not fair-to reduce people down to begging for their lives, isn't that the _one _thing they should be guaranteed?

The cheers and congratulations shared at this dead girls expense may be worse than the screaming. Is it honestly necessary to celebrate someone else's death? Could the Careers be any more despicable? I doubt it.

They check the dead tribute for supplies but I realize something they don't-she's not dead. At least not yet, her cannon hasn't fired. The poor girl is suffering and dying slowly.

The Careers begin moving toward my tree, though I'm certain they won't notice me, nor will they look a hundred feet up into a tree for a twelve year old. It's not like I'm a threat.

They pass under me without even bothering to move quietly. They trample through the forest, daring anyone to attack them. If I were larger I might, just to spite them. I peer at the group and quickly realize-with great shock and disappointment-that Peeta is with them.

For a moment I feel betrayed. I had thought Katniss had two people on her side, two people trying to get her out. Then it hits me; he's doing this for her. Whatever he has done, it's been to _protect _her. I was right before, he really does love her.

They don't even pause under my tree, and their torches and flashlights don't reach me up in the tree. I remain hidden. However, just as the lights fade into the distance, the Careers-and Peeta-moving on, I catch a glimpse of something. It's a flash of silver, and I quickly distinguish what it is: a snare. It's the wire of a snare.

It's a snare. That can only mean one thing: Katniss is nearby.

* * *

**Hey guys! I wanted to let you know that I ****_do _****know that Rue only had her socks for some time in the arena. That will be arranged. I do my research as much as possible :). Let me know what you think. I know there's not a lot of action or dialogue in these chapters. It will probably be that way until Katniss and Rue team up. Sorry :(. If you have any ideas for something she might do in the arena let me know. Sorry to leave you with a sort-of cliffhanger.  
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	10. Peeta, Careers, and Water

Chapter 10

Peeta, Careers, and Water

For a second my heart stops. My stomach clenches in fear, and I don't know what to do. I think logically for a brief second. If she set a snare she must be camped out close by, if she's on the ground she's as good as dead-she has no weapons that I know of, and there's five Careers, even _if_ Peeta were to help her they'd both be killed.

I shudder at the thought, and being packing my supplies as hurriedly as possible. When everything is in place I climb down my tree as fast as possible. I jump the last four feet to the ground, and land with a soft thud-but the Careers are too far away to notice. I'm thankful for the cover of darkness as I move on the ground-it makes me uncomfortable.

I follow the orange glows of the Careers lights from a distance. When they stop and begin arguing-finally realizing what I already knew, the other tribute is not dead-I begin to scale a willow. I can't jump from tree to tree in these branches, but I can get an aerial view of the situation. I watch as the Careers grumble at one another, until Peeta speaks up, saying he'll take care of the problem. I wince-though I know he doesn't actually mean the words, it's too easy to envision him as a bloodthirsty Career. His wounds look rather painful, his face is bruised, and he's limping, he also has a bloody bandage on his arm, but he still appears ready to do some damage if he was so inclined.

As Peeta walks away, back to the dying tribute, I make a decision. The sun is coming up, and if the Careers were hunting at night they'll be sleeping in the daytime. If I want to know what their camp looks like I have to go while they're asleep.

I watch from my perch, where I can still see Katniss's snare, in awe of Peeta's actions. He stops before he goes to 'take care of' the dying tribute, to cover Katniss's snare with some leaves. He's making it completely invisible. I'm shocked, because not only would humans be unable to spot it, animals will easily be captured in this snare-it looks completely natural. Peeta's ability to camouflage is certainly his strongest asset.

In seconds the snare is covered, and Peeta continues to carry out his unpleasant task. He's gone for a few minutes, making me think he doesn't actually kill the poor girl, he simply stays with her-so she doesn't die alone, it's one of the few gifts that can be given in the arena.

When Peeta returns to the rest of the Careers the fallen tribute's cannon sounds, and I climb down from my willow. I'm careful to move soundlessly, as I follow the Career pack through the woods. I stay a good hundred feet away, relying on their voices and torchlight to lead me, and I know they won't spot me.

At this point I'm fairly sure that unless there's a good fight occurring somewhere, I am being featured on the screens of Panem-a twelve year old following the Career pack back to their home base. To viewers it must look like I'm on the offensive-well good, let them be confused, and shocked. In reality this mission is simply for gathering intelligence. I need to know what they're camp looks like. Katniss will find this information valuable, especially if she wants to get her hands on that bow.

The pack moves so slowly-though they are running-and after about twenty minutes of following them I've made it out of the patch of willows. With good climbing trees all around I'm able to travel in my preferred manner. I jump from branch to branch, until I realize where they're headed.

The same as every other year, the Careers have the vast majority of supplies to themselves. They keep it all near the Cornucopia, to lazy, and 'powerful' to bother moving it. When the trees start to thin, and I can see the Cornucopia in the rising sun's light, I stop advancing, hoping to stay concealed.

I watch the Careers approach the pile of supplies, but not until after they consult with the boy from 3, who somehow was trusted to singlehandedly guard their precious supplies. It confuses me, but whatever this person's skill is it must be immensely powerful.

I watch, hoping to discover this 'secret skill' but not one person indicates the nature of the tribute boy from 3's importance. The Careers eat a light breakfast before dropping off to sleep-all expect Peeta. While the other Careers sleep soundly knowing that no one would dare attack them, Peeta remains awake and alert, it's clear he doesn't trust his allies. He shouldn't-the only reason they're keeping him around is because they think he can find Katniss for them.

The boy from 2, Cato, has it out for Katniss because her 11 upstaged his 10. He wants to be the one to kill her that much is clear. However, what they don't know, and what I do, is that Peeta knew she was nearby last night and 'Lover Boy' didn't tell them. For powerful tributes they really are stupid.

After some time, Peeta drops off to sleep, and with all the Careers sleeping soundly I consider going to the lake for some water, but I quickly dismiss the thought, it's simply too close in proximity-I wouldn't take such a risk without the cover of nightfall.

Just before I leave I take a special note of the bow. The girl from 1-the others call her Glimmer-keeps it at her side, but she's not as comfortable with it as she should be if it was her preferred weapon. I know that I could never singlehandedly steal the bow, but perhaps Katniss and I together… I quickly dismiss the thought. Right now she doesn't know I exist.

I use the trees to double back to my position earlier, until I see another snare, right along the willow patch. Katniss must be on the move. I wonder if she's found water yet. I don't think so, because if she had stumbled on it yesterday it would have been somewhere between her and the Cornucopia, which would have meant she found it on the same path I am taking currently.

I think back to this morning, and I recall one detail with perfect clarity-though I had ignored it at the time-the Mockingjays had been singing. Their songs had been echoing through the trees of the vast forest so perfectly. I know from experience that Mockingjays are fiercely protective of their young-it only took one time for me to learn that if you stole Mockingjay eggs you ended up with beak scratches all over your arms. I smile at the memory.

When my stomach begins to growl I turn my eyes higher in the sky. There's a birds nest not too far from here, and I leap over to the tree containing what I hope is a nest full of bird eggs. I'm rewarded, and this particular nest holds four eggs. They fit in the palm of my hand, and I only take one, knowing it will suffice for breakfast. I yearn to cook it, like we would at home, but there's no helping it, I won't build a fire. I suck the egg down quickly, and pause, sitting on the branch contemplating my next move.

So far so good, in terms of food, and staying hidden, but I need water. I know Katniss-_wait_, I think in confusion. _I smell smoke, that's not right. _I know that the dead tribute's fire could still be hot right now, but the odds that it's still smoking are not good.

I look to the sky, searching for a pillar of smoke ascending towards the sky, but I see nothing. If there's no smoke in the sky, and there's no crackling of a fire… I have an idea.

I stay high in my tree and jump a little ways, to where I was this morning, sleeping over the tribute girl. I have a clear view of the camp, and I smile. Someone-smart and resourceful-has used the hot coals of the fire to cook something. I wish I had thought of that. I scamper down the tree-I imagine I must resemble a squirrel-and I drop to the ground lightly.

I head back to where I found Katniss's first snare. I'm surprised to see a pile of leaves-no _the _pile of leaves that Peeta's hands had expertly manufactured to disguise the snare covering a pile of animal remains, which are covered in flies. The snare has been taken apart-by Katniss I assume, who has already collected her food, and eaten I would assume.

She's very intelligent to think of using this tribute's fire. She must have jumped at the chance as soon as we left-but that doesn't explain the thick smoke smell that had hit me minutes before. I ponder this for a moment until I realize that the fire's hot coals have been stomped out. My heart jumps at what this must mean: Katniss _just _left!

I have time to catch her if I move fast. I scale a large tree quickly, and begin flying from tree to tree in my socked feet, as fast as I dare. A few moments later I stop to listen, hoping-if the odds could be in my favor, just this once-that Katniss isn't far ahead and I will be able to hear her moving through the forest. Even in my silence, I can't hear a thing. Not a snapping branch, not crunching leaves. Either I have badly misjudged my position or I have missed her by more time than I had first thought.

I press further down the path I think she has taken and I'm giving up hope that I might be able to catch up with her-unless she stops to rest somewhere I doubt that will happen.

I continue in the direction I set off on throughout the day. I don't catch up with Katniss, but I see subtle signs, from above, that hint of her direction. For the first few hours she seemed to be eating some kind of an animal, perhaps a bird, or a rabbit-the bones seem thick, and I think I saw fur in the pile of animal remains by her old snare.

Every half hour or so she'd drop a bone that would confirm that I was following _someone_, who I could only hope was Katniss. The bone trail stopped when she had finished her meal about mid morning.

Though I was had been in the trees I was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration. I had a pounding headache, and though I was normally at ease in the trees I had lost my balance a few times, almost dropping over fifty feet to the ground. I started being more careful, and I watched the branches more cautiously.

When I'd first heard the noise I froze, becoming an addition to the tree I was perched in. I listened intently, and I knew it was someone-Katniss?-climbing a tree. I couldn't see from where I was, but I was pretty sure it was Katniss. I jumped a few more branches, thankful for the heavy foliage. I knew that when the sun began to set I would need to stop and get my bearings, before continuing on in the dark, at the very least. It would appear that an exhausted, and presumably thirsty, Katniss was scaling a tree and holing up for the night.

My sore body ached to follow her footsteps, but I recalled an errant thought I had from day one in the arena-in the evening birds flight paths lead towards water. When I paired that fact with the fact that water runs down hill and we were in a valley, I thought my chances of finding water tonight were fairly good.

I tie my spare sweatshirt to a branch about a hundred feet up in a tree overlooking Katniss's perch, so I can locate my camp later. I allow myself one hour of searching the nearby area to seek the water my body so desperately needed. I set off, but not without looking to the sky for the Mockingjays. I catch a glimpse of one Mockingjay, going in a direction that I judge to be away from my tree at a right. I wait five more minutes and see a flock of sparrow's head in the same direction as the Mockingjay.

With the birds leading me in the right direction I follow their lead. They take me in one direction for about half an hour, and then I'm rewarded, with a small body of water! Ahhh… I scramble down the tree awkwardly and rush to the edge of the water source. I fill my water skin and drink thirstily. I fill it once more, and scale back up a tree, promising to return in the morning to refill again.

With my thirst satisfied I'm faced with another conundrum. Katniss is still dehydrating. She hasn't stumbled upon the water source as I have, and I now know she doesn't share my knowledge about the birds. She's slowly dying of thirst. I can't let this happen, obviously, and the easiest solution would be to go up to her and tell her I can get her water. Somehow I know the traditional way won't work with Katniss-she's not the average tribute.

She would feel like she owed me something-I know I would-and if, no _when_, I die I don't want her feeling guilty. How, when you can't make yourself known, do you lead a fellow tribute to water?

I'm at a total loss, until I remember that I still have my slingshot. I also remember a thought I had earlier, to gather rocks. My idea plays heavily on her huntress instincts, but I think it will work. And suddenly I feel sure that I can help the famous Katniss Everdeen, Girl on Fire.

* * *

**Hey guys! So... for all you naive people out there who actually thought Katniss won all by herself, sorry you're wrong-in my eyes at least. I never thought that Katniss magically survived by sheer coincidence, so in my version of the story (Rue's Version) we see what 'really' happened. If you liked Peeta's help, and the idea Rue had to plan Katniss getting water then you will like the rest of the story. Yes, that's right, all those unexplainable things that Katniss just happened to do at the right time? Well... let's just say Rue is going to be behind a lot of ****_that._**

**Hope you like the idea. I just thought a character as amazing as Rue would contribute more to Katniss's victory than what was hinted at in the books. **

**Let me know what you think, good or bad, I love feedback. It makes me a better writer and it tells me what my audience does or doesn't like. **

**Thanks, **

**R&R**


	11. Fire

Chapter 11

Fire

My plan relies solely on Katniss's subconscious telling her to go the right way, away from the noise I will be carefully distributing along the _wrong _path. It certainly won't be easy, but I think I can make it work. Her ears are very keen to the sounds of the forest, as long as I can keep sending my rocks flying into the tree bark she'll notice the difference between the sound of rock on bark, and normal forest sounds. The plan also hinders on going unnoticed. If Katniss picks up on the noise she will either run, or investigate. I can't afford either.

At this point her rapidly decreasing condition may be my ally, however I resolve that if by the end of the day tomorrow she hasn't found the water, I will help her personally.

Before I settle into my tree for the night I collect stones from the ground, none larger than my palm. I'm fairly certain I'm on screen right now, because for all they know I may be challenging Katniss-deadly, lethal, eleven scoring Katniss Everdeen the _sixteen _year old-with only a few stones. Only an idiot would try that.

I'm quick on the ground, just not as fast as I am in the trees. In no time I have both my arena pant pockets full of 'ammunition'. I'm on my last sweep of the ground when my hand rakes across a sharp rock. A gash is opened on the outer side of my left hand and I gasp in pain. A steady stream of blood trickles from the cut, but my pain is quickly overpowered by excitement. I have a knife-or close to one! That's about as close to a weapon as I'm going to come, and I think it will be of some use.

I tuck it into my belt, alongside my slingshot for later use-but not until after I cut off a small square of fabric from my sweatshirt. I don't take enough to render me cold at night, just enough to use as a rag, to press into my cut and stop the flow of blood. After a few moments the bleeding has ceased, and I douse it in some water, to prevent infection. I tell myself to look for some medicinal plants that help ward off infection tomorrow, and hold the rag to the cut as I climb my tree.

I feel much better with the water in my system, so I would imagine Katniss feels terrible-even as she sleeps. As adverse as I am to the idea of letting her suffer, my non-direct way of assisting her seems to be the right choice at the moment. I can't think of a way to aid her that would absolve her of guilt at the time of my death, other than to remain hidden, only assisting from the shadows.

I drift off to sleep quickly, 'programming' myself to awake at an hour before dawn to fetch breakfast, and some more water.

* * *

I wake up earlier than planned, excited to fetch water and carry out my plan for Katniss. I debate for a moment-while gathering my things, and decide to double back to a berry bush Katniss had found yesterday. The berries had been unfamiliar to her and it was smart of her to refuse them, but I knew they were safe. They're known as 'bilberries' in 11, and we collect the wild ones when they're in season. They are delicious, and if you're careful the red centers won't even stain your fingers.

The bush was about half an hour away, I could make it there and back before Katniss awoke, I hoped, and I could last the day with the water in my water skin-a trip to the spring would be unnecessary.

I set off swiftly, with everything prepared for today. I had my rocks, my slingshot, my spare clothes, and my new item to add to the checklist: my 'knife'. _Not bad for a twelve year old, _I think, smiling smugly.

By the time I reach the bilberry bush the sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon, illuminating my surroundings with the faintest yellow-blue light. I look over the bush, and to my great surprise it's been picked over. Not much, there's still plenty of ripe fruit for me, but it was almost as though someone had purposefully picked the berries in a widespread manner so that other tributes wouldn't know that the bush's fruit was edible. It hadn't looked like this when Katniss was here yesterday.

That meant that one of the other tributes had known that this bush's berries were edible, however, more importantly, someone had been less than half an hour from our camp last night.

I frown, because now I must, not only keep tabs on Katniss, but I must watch over my shoulder, for signs of someone trailing her-or me, though I doubt anyone has noticed me up in the trees. I gather up about thirty berries quickly, leaving about twenty ripe ones untouched. If you're going to die in the arena it shouldn't be because you slowly withered away into the depths of starvation.

It's clear that someone has eaten the bush, if someone were to stumble on it he or she could decide if it were these very berries that caused the death of another tribute. I quickly climb into a tree nearby and begin my trip back to my camp, to Katniss.

I contemplate the number of tributes that would know that the berries were edible. I think Thresh would have, but I feel certain he went to the grasses-to home-and I doubt he ventured this far into the forest. I would have thought Katniss would know that these berries were edible, but maybe they don't grow in 12. That leaves me with the girl tribute from 5. She was the one who cleverly evaded the questions at her interview. I had considered allying with her, but decided that Katniss deserved to go home to her sister. She was the only other person with enough knowledge of plants to have known about these uncommon berries. I also think she would have the idea to make the bush look untouched. She was never one for helping others; she and I are opposites.

The sun has just fully become visible over the horizon when I reach a tree adjacent to Katniss's. I stay here for a while, eating about ten of the berries, which I have kept in the zipper pocket of my arena coat. I'm starting to run out of pockets, my pants pockets are full of stones, and my jacket pocket has berries, soon I will be out of pockets.

When I've eaten some berries I quickly discover that I'm in the mood for something with a little more protein and nutritional value. I discover I'm in the branches of a strong pine tree, so, using my 'knife' I scrape off the edible inner bark of the tree into strips. I gnaw on these for a while, they are hard to chew but they taste fine. My stomach is quickly filled, and I simply sit, waiting for Katniss to wake up.

I try to use my time wisely, scraping more pine bark off for later-you never know when food in the arena will become a hot commodity-and storing it in the same pocket as my bilberries. So far, with two full nights in the arena I'm faring pretty well. I've had plenty of food, and I've even found water in the arena.

Katniss wakes about three hours after sunrise, and it's clear she's suffering. She will not last one more day without water. She climbs down a ways from her perch in the trees, but she looses her footing about seven feet off the ground and she plummets to the earth. I gasp quietly from my tree, but I'm relieved when she gets up without appearing injured. She's just exhausted.

Katniss props herself up against her tree, after arranging her gear, and she seems to be marveling at her dry mouth. It's clear she isn't thinking clearly, and, as if to prove my observation, she turns her face to the sky and says, in a pleading tone, "water."

The desperation in her voice is clear, and to my surprise a tear slips down my cheek. I'm hit once again with the full conviction of how _wrong _all of this is. No one should slowly dehydrate to death. Granted Katniss has at least two people attempting to aid her at the moment (Haymitch and I)-and who knew what kind of lies Peeta was spouting to the Careers on her behalf, but if we had any moral sense of 'right and wrong' as a nation you'd think it would make an appearance at times like this.

She waits, hoping her plea will be answered, for a good ten minutes, though I doubt she knows that she's waited that long. The dehydration seems to be playing with her sense of time. After waiting, her face blank, she buries her head in her hands-as though she was crying-in frustration. She seems to think that Haymitch is going to let her die this way, until a few moments later and she has a renewed confidence about finding water.

Perhaps she has reached the same conclusion as me: Haymitch-nor any other sane mentor-would send their tribute something they were so, so close to reaching. Especially not if that tribute had an ally assisting them that they didn't know about. Based on the reality of the fact that water is close, Katniss manages to push herself up, and she begins walking.

I put my plan into action, every hundred feet or so firing a stone into the direction I don't want Katniss to take. It works more times than not, but still it takes more than half the day to get Katniss close to the water source. It's clear by mid-afternoon that she's fading fast, and I'm relieved when she collapses _next to the pond. _

It takes her a moment to place the wet slippery feel of mud, and the crisp scent of the ponds many plants, but when she does it's as though someone has recharged her. She quickly, and efficiently crawls to the ponds edge and fills her canteen with water. I watch her add the iodine purifying drops to the water and wait, what she judges to be 30 minutes but is really only about fifteen. I feel as relieved as I imagine she does when she slowly consumes first one, then another half gallon of water-easily replenishing what her body has lost in two days.

The sun is setting when Katniss selects a tree to reside in for the night, towing yet another half gallon of water. She eats and drinks, and I can see the life returning to her body. Her eyes are more alert, and once I tested out her ears-firing a stone into a tree about ten feet away from her. She had immediately stiffened, and turned to the noise, but quickly dismissed it for what it was, nothing.

By the time the anthem plays she feels better, and I, consequently know that I feel more confident in my position-my sort-of-ally is no longer dying. She falls asleep quickly, and I follow her lead, only to be woken by the snapping of branches, the thunder of feet, and the smell of thick smoke.

I come to my senses quickly, and try and find a way to alert Katniss to the danger. The large wall of flames is quickly advancing towards us, but it will reach her tree first. I yank my slingshot from my belt, and fire a rock directly at her boot. It hits the target and her eyes snap open.

Satisfied, I begin putting as much distance between the flames and myself as possible thinking the whole time: _please, please get Katniss out of there. _Because I know in the end, if she dies that rebellious fighting hope she's given people will fade away, as I'm sure it's done so many times before.

* * *

**So, there you have it. Katniss was assisted by Rue, yet again. How adorable is little Rue? So selfless. Sorry I know this is kind of short, but the next chapter is longer for you lovely readers. **

**Thanks to each and every one of you for my reviews. They mean the world to me, and they literally make my day. Hope you like my version of Rue, and you keep reading. **

**Thanks,**

**R&R**


	12. Treed

Chapter 12

Treed

I stay in the trees, and since I had no time to pack my things I lost my spare jacket. It fell off when it was covering my legs and I jerked awake. There was no way I could have gotten it. My sweatshirt and jacket were still on though, and I zipped my sock gloves into my coat pockets so that my fingers were free.

I'm wearing my boots, because I fell asleep with them on, and that makes out-jumping the flames that much more difficult. I lost Katniss in the time it took to leap a few branches over, and now I'm jumping in a diagonal toward the pond. The wall of fire is quickly advancing and it's less than ten yards away when the first fireball whizzes through the air.

Rather than duck, as I would on the ground, I launch myself into a branch about ten feet below me. The fireball explodes on the tree and it immediately becomes a blazing inferno-I know using the trees is out.

I'm five feet off the ground when I jump. I land soundly, and I take off running, still at a diagonal, but I no longer know where the pond is. The fireball has left my jumpy and disoriented, because I fear another attack. At this point I'm working with instinct and adrenaline. I can feel each heart beat, and I'm running as fast as I had from the Cornucopia if not faster.

The flames are still on my heels when the next fireball crashes into the forest. I tuck and roll away from the fireball's whizzing sound, and the small fire it ignites. I know that I'm not the target with this fiery assault-Katniss is. I can only imagine how many fireballs have been launched at her.

The thick smoke is choking and it's easy to tell I won't last long breathing it in. I yank my t-shirt neck over my mouth and nose, trying to filter the air, if only slightly. It seems to be helping, though my throat and eyes are still burning. The longer I run the harder it is to see-there's tears pooling in my eyes, trying to wash out the burning sensation.

I know I can't stop running, but it's too hard to breathe. I lean against a tree for ten seconds before forcing myself to restart my run. Another fireball whizzes past me, closer than the first two. I dodge it narrowly, and wonder if the Gamemakers plan to actually hit Katniss-it's clear they're behind this fire. My guess is the fire was designed to seriously injure or debilitate Katniss. An icy fear settles in my stomach.

Just as this thought solidifies in my mind, I hear someone vomiting. My first thought is that it might be Katniss, but I think the odds are slim. Still, I make my way in that direction. I can't see the mystery tribute, but I can hear them. Whoever it is, is panting heavily and trying to stand up, to keep running. I'm about to continue on when I hear the whiz of a fireball, and the crash.

A person-distinctly female-makes a sounds that's a cross between a scream and a gasp. I move a little closer, thinking that it may be Katniss, and I discover that it is! It's Katniss.

Judging by the noise she made this is the first fireball the Gamemakers have sent her way. I'm just to her left hidden by the trees when the next fireball whizzes by, heading straight for her. Her ears pick up on the noise instantly, and she drops to the ground. I jump to the right, trying to dodge it, but I react seconds to late. The fireball grazes my forearm and it takes everything I have not to scream.

I stifle the pain for now, and concentrate on Katniss, on trying to figure out how I can get us out of this attack, and how I can find water-I'm going to need it for this burn. I take a cautious glance at the wound and see the long strip of bright red flesh that's already begun to blister.

Katniss is running completely on instinct at this point, there's no distinct path to her advancement, she's simply fighting death. I'm right behind her, struggling to keep up, and ignore the searing pain in my arm.

She dives or jumps out of the path of each fireball that soars past her, though it's clear she's fading fast. The attacks slow briefly, which is good, because Katniss is retching again, as her body tries to rid itself of the harmful toxins it's been inhaling. She has to stop, and when she does I notice her braid has been seared off by more than five inches. She notices at the same time I do, because we both smell the burned strands of hair.

She holds the ends in her hand, almost mesmerized in the missing hair when the next fireball comes crashing through the forest. We both hear it, but I see it first. Katiss jumps out of the way, but she's reacted too late. There's nothing I can do, if throwing myself out in the open to catch the impact on myself would have worked I would have done it without thinking-I'm simple too far away.

I watch in horror as the flaming sphere catches Katniss calf and sets her pant leg on fire. I watch her burn, completely paralyzed, and utterly helpless. Katniss reacts before thinking, but quickly regains her head and rolls her leg on the ground, effectively smothering the flames. However, before thinking her actions through she rips the remaining smoldering edges of the fabric off with her bare hands, leaving burns there as well.

It's clear she's too traumatized to move, and if the Gamemakers had wanted her dead now would be the time-but I know they won't kill her, they aren't that merciful. They would rather her slowly perish at the hands of some Career due to her newly burnt, and most likely slower, condition.

A thought hits me with irony so strong it infuriates me: Katniss Everdeen the Girl on Fire, was indeed on fire. How coincidental-yeah right. This was all by design, the Capitol's way of controlling her spirit, and her will to live-they thought this would break her. I know otherwise, she has an iron will, which most likely was only hardened by an experience such as this.

With the attack behind us, I find that we really are a mess. The sun is rising, and I can see that the flames no longer chase us. The only thing reaching me is the choking plume of smoke.

I'm careful to remain hidden, not wanting to ruin my silent watch post because of this attack. I know for sure I have faired better than Katniss. The burn on her calf is making it difficult for her to walk, and her hands are badly enough burned that simply touching something would be agonizing.

She limps, seeming to be wandering, and I'm worried someone may be close by-someone other than myself. The purpose of the attack had to have been obvious to the Capitol citizens, it would be frowned upon to burn a tribute simply to break their will to live-oh no, there had to be a legitimate reason for burning a sixteen year old girl's calf. Ha! Legitimate. As if driving her into another person who will attempt to kill her is legitimate, only in the eyes of the Capitol.

She stumbles upon a spring-fed, bubbling pool. She's in ankle deep when her consciousness makes note of that fact, and she proceeds to plunge her charred hands into the water, which must ease the pain of the burns. She washes her face and somehow musters up the courage to examine her calf. At first sight she pales and sways a bit, but she quickly recovers, and without knowing it she rearranges her expression into that emotionless mask I know so well now.

I decide to hunt for some plants that I know will aid burns, looking more for pain relief for my arm than for Katniss-I'm one hundred percent sure she has sponsors. I leave the pool, and Katniss, but I don't have to stray far.

I find a cluster of plantain plants not one hundred feet from where I was moments before. I sigh; the plants bring back memories from home. We use them in the orchards for tracker jacker stings, and also for burns such as the one on my arm-not deep, but extremely painful.

At home we would chop the leaves and soak them in a warm bowl of water, before transferring them to a rag, to form a compress for the injured-here I have limited options. I think for a moment, before I decide that chewing up the leaves will suffice. If anything they will form a chewy green paste that I can use as a salve.

I pop a handful of leaves in my hand, and dig into my zipped coat pocket-the one containing my spare socks. I find the small square of fabric that I had used to stop my bleeding the day before-thankfully I had washed it out at the spring-and I spit the chewed glob of leaves into the rag.

I wrap it tightly to form an 'icepack' of sorts, and press it to the burn. The medicinal part of the plants begins to seep through the fabric, aided by my saliva, and it cools the burn, while it fights off infection. It's a miracle that these plants were here.

I rest for a few moments, and listen for sounds from Katniss. It's completely silent, and after ten minutes of quiet I assume she's fallen asleep. I guess I'm on watch.

I keep busy while she rests. I check over my supplies, only to find that I didn't lose my food in the fire, so I still have some berries, and some tree bark. I also add the plantain roots to the pile-I know they are edible-and two more handfuls of the leaves, I don't know if I'll be able to find more after I leave this spot.

My pocket is feeling full, but I still need to collect some mint leaves when I come across them, they make me happy-like music, they are one of the few things we have that are almost sweet in 11. We treat them like candy.

I add them to my food stash, which is quickly becoming more and more diverse, I guess I am oddly suited for this arena.

Among my other supplies I still have my spare sweatshirt, though the bottom hem us badly burned, how I do not know, which shortens it considerably. I keep it anyways, because in the next few nights it will help me keep warm. I also have my socks, and my 'weapons'-if you can call a slingshot and a sharp rock weapons.

The last thing I do is restock my pants pocket full of stones to fire from my slingshot. Most of them had fallen out during the run from the fire, and I'm now in need of more. When I complete that task I sneak over to the pool of water and fill my water skin silently, sure to leave the sleeping Katniss undisturbed.

I climb a tree, though I'm only about fifty feet up, and I keep watch looking and listening for anything strange. When I do hear footsteps, and coughing, I jerk up, desperate to alert Katniss to the danger that's coming. _The Careers!_

I resort to using my slingshot once again; thankful I had replenished my ammo. I fire a stone inches from her ear and she shoots into a sitting position, her pack all ready to go-_thank goodness, _I think.

I climb higher and higher in my tree until I'm a good hundred and twenty feet in the air, then I begin to jump from tree to tree following Katniss's path at a distance. The Careers are closing in and I can't think of a way to divert their attention from Katniss, right now I could probably try and gain their attention, but they'd kill me instantly, and Katniss would be next. I'm praying for a miracle when she begins to climb.

She scales the tree faster than I have ever seen her before, completely ignoring the pain that I'm sure she feels-it's remarkable really, her will power.

When they reach the tree she's climbing she's twenty feet high, _keep going, _I order in my mind. I know that if she can clear fifty feet the others won't stand a chance at reaching her, they're too heavy, and that girl with the bow probably can't shoot it.

"How's everything with you?" She yells, and we're all shocked by her boldness, though I have to suppress a laugh-it's so _Katniss._ To taunt those bent on killing you ruthlessly, it's a death wish, yet she welcomes the challenge.

"Well enough," The leader, Cato speaks for the whole group, though under Peeta's calm expression he is in utter terror and dismay for Katniss, he won't let them kill her. "Yourself?" Cato seems excited to taunt his victim back, assuming-I'm sure that this bravado is simply because Katniss is trying to be brave. She and I know otherwise.

"It's been a bit warm for my taste, The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

"Think I will." Cato replies fiercely.

"Here, take this Cato." She tries to shove the bow at Cato, but he refuses it, and thankfully only I notice the tortured, furious expression on Katniss's face when she sees the bow-and the glare she non-discreetly shoots at Peeta.

When Cato begins to climb Katniss does as well. When she's fifty or so feet in the air Cato's branch buckles under his weight and he plummets to the ground.

He stays still for a moment, but of course, it's too much to wish that the twenty foot drop had killed him.

* * *

**Well, what do you think? I hope you like it. I've been ****_loving _****writing these past few chapters, I like that I can change the arena to fit my perception of it. **

**Please let me know if you have comments, concerns, and or questions for me comment or PM me, please! I love feedback, and it makes me sooo happy! Also if you think my version is too different from THG let me know. I can work on things if you tell me what bothers you. **

**Thanks,**

**R&R**


	13. Attack

Chapter 13

Attack

Cato pulls himself up off the ground-obviously enraged-and dusts himself off. Katniss is at least seventy-five feet in the air when Glimmer begins to climb. She continues her pursuit of Katniss until the branches begin to snap under her weight-this is one of the few times being starved and skinny would come in handy.

Glimmer tries to shoot at Katniss with her arrows and I hold my breath, but I soon find that Glimmer-as I suspected-cannot shoot accurately. She misses Katniss, but the arrow wedges itself into the tree bark and Katniss retrieves it. She pretends to taunt the Careers, but I know that her true intention would be to utilize the arrow if she could.

The Careers take a moment to conference, and I'm too high up to catch their words. However, I do see the conflict raging on Peeta's face, thought amazingly no one else does. He debates for a moment longer then says, "Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning."

I assume what he really means is that by morning he will have some kind of a plan to help Katniss. I smile at just how much he is willing to put on the line for her-his life. He must really love her.

I watch, helpless, as Katniss-who is now in extreme pain, feeling the repercussions of her narrow escape-prepares for the night. I imagine the sleeping bag was too hot for her leg, and because of this she cut a whole open to allow her burned calf to breathe.

She uses some of her precious water to try and cool the burns. I contemplate going to her and offering up my plantain leaves to give her some relief, but I decide against it. Her mentor-Haymitch-will send her something when he thinks she needs it. Besides, Katniss doesn't accept charity.

I descend a few feet down in my tree, so I am at eye level with Katniss. I turn to settle in for the night, but I freeze when my ears hear a peculiar, familiar buzzing sound. My heart thumps in terror, I know this sound: tracker jackers. Dangerous Capitol engineered creatures that sting and leave lumps the size of the plums we harvest. I've learned from my time in the orchards that someone my size can be killed by three stings, and someone Katniss's size can be killed by about five stings. Anything less than the lethal number produces powerful hallucinations that target parts of your mind where fear thrives.

I shudder at the thought of being stung-it wouldn't be the first time, I have come across a nest of two in the orchards, but I never was stung more than once. I eye Katniss's position in the tree, in relation to the nest. She's about fifteen feet under it, and her movements aren't likely to sway the nest, so she should be safe, until she runs out of water.

I rack my brain for a way to get her out of the tree. Then it hits me; Katniss can use the nest against the Careers! Peeta will have to be warned, I know this much, but Katniss can escape!

I move a few branches closer to Katniss and stand, perched in the tree, my eyes burning a hole in her head. When she finally turns to look at me I remain still, allowing her to take in the facts. I am in a tree next to hers, but I want to help her.

I stay fixed in my stance, until I see the corner of Katniss's mouth twitch up, without her conscious thought, to form a ghost of a smile. I know she sees _me. _I reach my hand out, slowly, silently, and point to the nest above her head.

Her eyes follow my directions and I see her attuned eyes fixate on the nest. I know she's seen it. I mold back into my tree and I lay down for the night. It's significantly cooler without my spare jacket, but nothing I can't handle.

I carefully determine what I think Katniss would be thinking. I come to the conclusion that she should try to cut it down tonight, because I assume the smoke from the fire has knocked them out-it's what we use in 11 when there's a swarm. The Peacekeepers carry smoke guns, but after every swarm there's at least two funerals.

If she were to saw through most of the branch tonight, and wait till morning to drop the nest the rest of the way, while the Careers were sleeping, she's catch them off guard. The only problem with this plan is Peeta. He will surely get stung if he stays with the Careers, and I have to warn him somehow.

Katniss follows my outline, roughly. She does saw through half the nest's branch tonight, but she does so during the anthem, to mask any noise-clever. As she saws through the branch, a silver parachute descends from the sky. It's a gift for Katniss, from her sponsors, and it lands delicately on the ground. I hope it's something for her pain, and judging by her response, "Oh, Haymitch. Thank you." It is.

She quickly dozes off to sleep. I don't. Tonight I will be staying awake; I have to wait until the other Careers drift off to sleep to warn Peeta.

Cato and the girl from 2-Clove-argue about who are taking first watch. No one trusts Peeta, so his name isn't even suggested, I'm surprised they haven't killed him yet-they have found Katniss, but I suspect they want to know what her special skill is. Unfortunately for them, he's not talking.

They finally come to a consensus and leave the boy from one, Marvel, on watch. He's instructed to watch for a few hours, and then wake Glimmer, his district partner. The other Careers quickly drift off to sleep, and Peeta pretends to be asleep facing away form Marvel, I can tell he's wide awake.

He lies there, carefully controlling his breathing so he appears to be sleeping, but from the look in his blue eyes his mind is racing. He's trying to think of a way to save Katniss. In my head I see Peeta attacking the five other Careers, and dying for Katniss. The thought makes me sad, though I know for Katniss to win he must die, and we both want her to get out.

I lie motionless in the trees waiting for Marvel to fall asleep, but he doesn't. Four hours later, at what I judge to be two o'clock, Marvel gently arouses a drowsy Glimmer. She patiently thanks him for waking her up, and takes over watch. For children in an arena being forced to kill one another Marvel was actually quite nice, and Glimmer was pretty patient.

Marvel drops off to sleep in minutes and Glimmer props herself up against a tree. She keeps watch for a solid two hours before her blinks get longer and she starts to doze off. She jerks awake a few times, before falling asleep for good. I wait a solid half hour before I wander out of my tree.

I hit the ground without a sound and make my way over to Peeta. I pull out my slingshot and aim a pebble so that when it flies the arc will cross his line of sight. He's still wide-awake, and when I fire his eyes dart in my direction.

I wave my hand a little, so he can spot me in the darkness. He looks confused for a moment, so I offer a gentle smile.

He smiles back at me, reluctantly, because I'm sure he thinks I want his help, or I want to be his ally, or I need something from him. I don't and I want to tell him so. I point at myself and back at him indicating that he should watch me. He nods, confused.

I smile reassuringly and mouth 'just watch'. He nods and I take off into the trees. I slow my pace so he can follow me with his eyes. I glance over my shoulder as I climb so I can see that he's still watching me.

I wonder how odd he thinks this situation is. He was 'woken'-he probably doesn't know that I knew he was awake-up by a twelve year old who was making him watch her climb a tree, how odd. The fact that he's still watching me, propped up on his elbow, proves how smart he must think I am.

I reach my destination quickly. I am just under Katniss, and I point at her. Peeta nods, understanding my charades game. He has 'Katniss', so I jump up a few more branches and point at the nest of tracker jackers. It takes him a minute to figure out what the blob is, but he gets it-he's intelligent-and he nods at me. So now he has 'Katniss' and 'tracker jackers'.

I take out my sharp rock and make a sawing motion, knowing that in the dark the rock shard will appear to be a knife. I silently thank the Gamemakers for the bright moonlight, so that Peeta can see me. He nods again understanding the message so far, I've added a verb, 'sawing' to our game.

Finally, it's time for the finale. I make a gesture with my hands that shows the nest crashing down, through the trees and bursting open, silently, in my other palm, the 'ground'. He chuckles silently, but nods.

I hope he has the whole message 'Katniss is going to saw the tracker jackers branch down, so you have to move,' but I can't be sure.

He mouths the words 'thank you' and I can tell he means it. He rolls away from the rest of the Careers, he's on the edges of the group now, and it's likely that the tracker jackers will overlook him. But I have to be sure. I point at him, commanding his attention again. I motion 'run' with my fingers, and point to my full water skin. My message is clear, 'you have to run for water'.

He nods and smiles at me, and says 'thank you' again silently. I smile at him and nod. It's a silent message that says 'I'm with you. I understand, and I'm with you.' It means I want to get Katniss out too, that I love her in my own way.

I disappear back into my trees knowing he won't go to sleep, and neither will I. We both have to be ready when Katniss acts.

Dawn is coming when Katniss wakes up. She moves so silently that I fear Peeta won't hear her, so I fire a stone near him, just to be sure-he'll know it's me. He'll know it's time to go.

Katniss surprises me by calling out my name, in a timid whisper.

"Rue!" I'm worried she has decided to back out of the plan.

I point to the nest. She shows me her knife, and makes a sawing motion. I breathe a sigh of relief, she's going through with it, and then I'm embarrassed. She wasn't going to back out-of course not, she's too brave for that. She was thinking of me, trying to protect me. I nod in understanding and begin hopping from tree to tree.

I put as much distance between Katniss's tree and myself as possible. I don't stray too far, however, I know I have to go back and make sure Katniss is ok. The wasps might sting her and she will have to be camouflaged at the very least if she's to be saved. I can also treat her stings if need be.

I wait for five minutes before I hear the screaming start. I feel bad for the Careers, but then again, they shouldn't have treed Katniss Everdeen. They run past me, with the wasps following closely behind. Peeta is in the lead by about twenty feet, and I know it's because I warned him, _thank goodness. _

Cato is behind him, and the other Careers are running as well. It doesn't look like Glimmer or the girl from 4 will make it to the lake, they have been stung too many times, and the venom overwhelms their systems. The girl from 4 collapses, and Glimmer falls not far from her.

The tracker jackers clear out when the tributes are dead and I see the bow! Katniss's bow! In my excitement I don't see Katniss herself coming toward the collapsed Glimmer, going for the bow.

There is nothing I can do to stop her, and I know the tracker jacker venom is affecting her. She rips the bow from Glimmers clutches and she turns to run. Before she can get away the person I hadn't been expecting bursts through the trees-Peeta.

When I had heard someone crashing through the trees I assumed it was Cato, out for revenge, but it turned out to be Peeta. Peeta! He's dripping wet from the lake, but instantly tries to stop Katniss.

"What are you still doing here?" He whisper screams in surprise and fear-for Katniss, not himself. "Are you mad?" He begins to poke her with the spear, unwilling to set the weapon down and leave them undefended. "Get up! Get up!" Thankfully Katniss stands, but she's in a tracker jacker venom induced haze.

Desperate to get Katniss to safety he shoves her away, deeper in the forest, away from the next person who is crashing through the trees. "Run! Run!" Katniss stays only long enough to be seen by a dripping wet Cato. He's been stung under one eye, and it's swelling shut. He's also been stung twice on the leg, it's clear he's fighting the venom as well.

Katniss runs stumbling blindly out of sight. She makes it out of my sight and I want to follow her but I can't. I have to know what happens to Peeta.

Cato wields his sword towards Peeta, but Peeta-who has not been stung-dodges it effortlessly. Cato is a powerful person though, and he doesn't give up. Instead, he fights dirty.

He looks past Peeta deliberately, as if Katniss were there. He takes a step toward the person, and when Peeta turns to defend Katniss-though she's not really there-Cato slashes the sword into his leg.

Peeta cries out in pain, and I'm frozen in horror. Thankfully, Cato collapses on the ground, his smug smile glued to his face, right after he hits Peeta.

Peeta falls to the ground and I scurry down the tree. When I hit the bottom I rush over to Peeta, who is struggling to stand up.

"Peeta-" I begin but he cuts me off.

"Katniss. Go." It's a plea, a wish.

"I will. I promise. Stop the bleeding," I say turning my attention to his fatal wound. "Go to water. Don't stay out in the open." I'm giving commands, and he's listening, but I don't know if he will have the strength to follow through with the instructions. "There's a river that way," I say recalling the river I had heard from my tree by Katniss earlier.

He nods, and glances at Cato. "I'll take care of him." I say, unsure how I plan to do so.

He can't speak anymore, he's too winded and the blood is pouring out of his leg. He limps off in search of the river, and I head off in search of Katniss.

* * *

**Hello lovely readers! This chapter is one of my longest yet and I hope you all like it. Send me your reviews! I want to know what you think of Peeta and Rue being 'ally-ish'. I just made up that word now, but you know what I mean. They work together to help Katniss. What do you think of that? And did you like how I gave Peeta a little heads-up courtesy of Rue? **

**Please, please, please review. It's the only thing that helps me get better with my stories is your feedback. Hopefully things are more exciting now that Rue is in the arena and there's a series of things happening. **

**Thanks for your faithful support, **

**R&R**


	14. Caretaker

Chapter 14

Caretaker

When I find Katniss she's out cold. I panic for a second, thinking that her stings may have killed her, only to realize there hasn't been a canon.

She's sprawled out on the ground, right next to a divot in the earth. The hole is full of dead, moist leaves, and it will provide useful for keeping her concealed in her unconscious state.

I pull at her arms and legs, trying to unlock their grip around her knees, so she's in a small ball, but she won't be budged. Katniss is only one hundred something pounds at most, and in the arena she's been losing weight-it won't be easy for me to move her to the hole, but it will be manageable.

Before I move her I need to treat her wounds. At a quick glance I can see she's been stung three times. Once on her neck, once on her hand, and once on her cheek.

I know how to treat these wounds, so I begin with them. I chew the plantain leaves and press the globs onto her stings. She was smart enough to act on instinct and pull the stingers out of her stings that cut the time of the tracker jacker's effect in half.

I let the leaves work their magic, and I watch Katniss closes eyes twitch, moving in fear that is trapped in her own mind. With any luck the venom's attack will only last a few days. In 11 sometimes it lasts weeks, and when people come to they are forever changed by what they've seen. I hope Katniss will be ok.

With her stings treated I look her over for any noticeable wounds. Other than her burn, which is healing nicely thanks to Haymitch, I see nothing, not even a scratch. All I have to do for her burns is smear on some more burn medicine, to ease some of her pain.

She also has her bow, clutched tightly in her fists, as though it's her lifeline-which incidentally it is. I know that leaving a pristine weapon like this out in the open is asking for trouble so I place it in the bottom of the hole with the quiver of arrows beside it.

I take some time to carefully drag Katniss into the hole. She lies on top of the weapons, concealing them, and I know it must be uncomfortable, but it's imperative these weapons remain hidden.

With her in the divot I pull some dead leaves over her. They're moist, and they can't be warm, but she's too far gone to notice. Before nightfall I will pull her sleeping bag over her.

I wedge her pack into the hole, and it takes up all the remaining space. She's packed in tightly with all her supplies, and I vaguely camouflage her and her supplies.

Simply put, with the Career pack out of commission at the moment I'm as safe as ever in the arena. I think about my conversation with Peeta about Cato-"_I'll take care of him."_ I certainly could kill him, if I had a mind to, but I'm not like that. I won't kill him.

I just need a way to ensure he won't come after Katniss when he comes to. I think for a moment and realize a way to do just that. I climb into a tree and fly back to the sight of the accident. Peeta's blood is smeared everywhere, and I make a mental note to wipe away his trail.

I reach Cato's sprawled body quickly and I scurry down my tree. He doesn't move, and his eyes are reeling in his head, just like Katniss's. I know the venom had pulled him into the world of terror. I can't imagine what would scare him, but I'm sure there's something.

I approach him cautiously. I move slowly and I take his sword quickly, and dart for the trees. Now he's weaponless. He can't kill Katniss without his weapon. Good.

I consider what he's done-probably killed more than one human being-and I decide it's not wrong for me to take his pack as well. I stash the sword in a tree too high for him to climb without falling, and I go back for his pack. I don't take anything from that-I do not steal-but I do 'relocate' in this instance.

I take the supplies four trees over and wedge them into an opening into the trunk. When it's secure I return to Katniss. It's a slow day, without moving, and I think of something to keep me busy.

I go back to Peeta's blood trail and use my water skin's contents to wash it away. It comes off easily when I use my rag to scrub the remnants away. The trail leads to the river I told Peeta about, and it abruptly disappears. I don't think too much about it, and I don't go searching for Peeta, knowing him he's camouflaged his way into disappearing, and probably fainted from his blood loss.

I smear the blood trail away completely for about thirty yards, leading away from the scene of the attack. Then I leave partial streaks, thinking that Katniss may want to repay him, by saving his life, because he saved hers.

I leave the trail, satisfied that no one who isn't looking for it closely will find it.

Night is falling and I head back to my tree. I sleep just over Katniss, about a hundred feet in the air. I don't leave Katniss unprotected from the elements though. I cover her in her sleeping bag, and I zip up her jacket. I would have tried to put her in the bag, but in her fetal position it was too difficult.

I don't sleep well; I'm too worried someone will discover her. She's too exposed, but there's nothing I can do about it but cover her in more leaves.

* * *

The next two days are uneventful, except I have to cut my sweatshirt apart for Katniss to use as a blanket. She's been shivering uncontrollably at night, even with her sleeping bag. I use it to cover her legs, and her feet and hands, because I know this will help keep her body temperature up.

I'm a little cold at night, but it's nothing I can't handle. I've taken to sleeping in the mornings, while it's getting warmer, and moving around at night. I collect food, and water, as well as keep watch on Katniss.

I add to my food supply some silverweed-which to my great surprise, was very simple to find, in 11 it's almost impossible to come by. I don't have a fire to cook it, so I don't eat it, I just store it. I also find another bush of edible berries. I also stumble across a patch of clovers, which taste perfectly fine without being cooked-though I like them best boiled.

I collect most of the clovers, but leave some behind, so the plants will replenish themselves and I can collect them later. I'm feeling fine, with a full stomach and satisfied thirst.

It's a fine two days in my death trap. Katniss stays 'asleep' for two days; though I imagine when she arises she will be exhausted and sore, like most tracker jacker sting victims.

On the third day I expect she'll be waking up, so I remove the traces of my presence. I take my ripped sweatshirt and cut off the usable squares, and a few strips to use as bandages if needed, and I wrap them into my belt. When they're secure I wash the plantain leaves off her stings. They are still large lumps-but I've changed the leaves twice-and I know she'll need further treatment. I can't help her anymore though, I need to remain hidden, I don't-_can't _have her feeling bad over my death.

Katniss simply looks simple, in her hole-and that _could _have happened by chance, however unlikely that is. She's lying on top of her bow, which is even less likely to have happened coincidentally, but I think in her venom-tainted mind she won't notice it-I'm banking on that.

My theory proves to be correct, and I see Katniss's eyes begin to flutter and they finally open. After three days of not being able to see her eyes it's a relief to be staring at the cool grey of district 12.

She doesn't move for a few moments, probably expecting the venom to drag her mind back into its clutches, or perhaps she thought she was dreaming. She sits up and takes in her position slowly. She moves out of the hole, and drinks water from her bottle slowly, so very slowly.

She looks to the sky to see the time of day. It's afternoon now, and when she went out it was morning. This is troubling to her and myself, because all Katniss knows is she was unconscious for some time. She has no idea what has happened, and she has no idea how many days she has been in the arena. But finally, and most importantly, she doesn't know whom she's still up against.

* * *

**Hey readers! I know this was a shorter chapter, but you ****_had _****to know what went on while Katniss was passed out. Peeta was by the stream (now we know how she knew that too) and Cato's supplies were 'relocated' courtesy of Rue. I know I wasn't the only one who thought Cato would have hunted Katniss down the minute he woke up if he were able. **

**Oh, and loveable little Rue decided to help Peeta, both by washing away his trail, and also leaving it-just a little.  
**

**Let me know what you think, please.  
**

**Thanks,  
**

**R&R  
**


	15. Allies

Chapter 15

Allies

It's clear she's in pain, because she moves slowly, cautious of each joint and movement. She looks upon her new weapons with elation. She takes a few moments to practice her shooting, aiming at a tree.

She has a full quiver of twelve arrows, when she adds the one she pulled from her tree. After only two shots she has a feel for the weapons, she picks out key facts from both of her missed bull's eyes.

She aims for a knot in the tree bark, and I quickly see how excellent of a shot she is. The first arrow drags a bit to the left, and it pulls to the bottom. The next arrow lodges itself to the upper right corner. The third arrow is a direct hit.

The fourth arrow is a direct hit. The fifth arrow is a direct hit. The sixth arrow is a direct hit. She doesn't shoot further, but if I had to guess Katniss Everdeen just became the most lethal tribute in the arena.

Not only can she kill with uncanny accuracy, she can do so at a distance. By placing herself in a tree she could easily pick off any tribute that comes her way, even Cato.

At this point being able to use a weapon accurately is vital to survival. Not only is Katniss now able to kill tributes, she's also able to hunt. She has a reusable food source that works quicker than her snares; she sees she shoots.

There really is nothing else that could guarantee Katniss a victory this late in the games; her bow and arrows are crucial to her becoming _the _victor. She is very skinny, and it's clear she needs food. She's also dehydrated, and she is certainly covered in wounds.

She applies more burn medication to her calf and hands and on the stings, though it has no effect on them. She takes off in the opposite direction she came in, knowing her path by the destruction she left behind.

She works up the energy to hunt along the way and after a few moments she has a rabbit. I can tell by the way she examines the carcass, and her arrow's penetration point that it wasn't the shot she was expecting. To anyone other then her, however, a nice headshot is just as impressive as whatever shot she meant to execute.

An hour later she finds a shallow stream. She washes up in the water and allows the water to purify beside the stream. She polishes her weapons and she munches on some crackers and strips of beef.

She treats her burns again, because the stream water has washed off the ointment, and she begins trekking upstream, and consequently uphill. A little ways up she comes across a bird that looks familiar. When she shoots the bird, and approaches it I can see that it's groosling. Groosling!

Mmmm… Back at home we have them occasionally, when they wander into our fields we get to eat heartily for a day. It's a rare occurrence, but the meat is delicious and Prine especially loves the taste.

When Katniss stops to build a fire and cook the meat as the sun goes down I retreat to the ground to collect some food for my supper. As Katniss collects twigs and branches for her fire I collect roots and leaves.

I find some more plantain leaves, which I store for later. I also gather some more of their roots to cook over Katniss's fire later-hopfully. I move around silently-until Katniss puts the first bits of groosling over the fire.

The scent brings me back in time, and I remember the first time Prine ever tasted groosling.

She was seven at the time, and she had just begun working in the orchards with the rest of the family. She was a bit younger than all the other workers, but she could reach the highest branches, so her work was never finished, and neither was mine.

She had worked for six hours half of our twelve-hour harvest schedule, when the flock of groosling wandered in. The Peacekeepers had taken them out, and had them roasting for a few minutes before they called us workers in for lunch.

Prine hopped over a few trees and joined me in collecting oranges. She whistled to the mockingjays for a few moments when she smelled the groosling's delicious aroma.

"Rue," She said, inhaling deeply. "What is that smell?"

I turned to her with a smile and said, "That, is our lunch."

Her face lit up and when they called us for lunch she bolted from the tree. While we waited in line with our bowls she couldn't stop smiling.

The lunch workers put a few pieces of groosling in both our bowls, and we moved down the line where the other workers added a broth to the meat. I remember Prine's thank-you. She's never been so sincere.

Meat is hard to come by in 11 and when we have it only workers get to eat it. Prine hadn't been working until she turned seven, so her, and all the other seven year olds were having groosling for the first time.

When she tried her first bite I've never seen her happier. I remember slipping her the last few pieces of meat from my bowl, and her protesting.

"No, Rue, that's yours."

"I know, and I want you to have it."

"Why?"

"Because you like it more than I do." I told her. It was a lie, but only a small one. I did like groosling, but I liked seeing her smile more, so sacrificing my meal was totally worth it. She never smiled enough.

_Snap! _I'm jerked from my memory when I hear the twig snap under my weight. I curse myself silently, because I know Katniss will not have missed the noise. I flinch, anticipating her investigation, and knowing that there is nothing I can do to hide.

In one quick motion she has her eyes on me, and though I'm behind a tree I can feel her eyes on me. I freeze because I know she sees me.

I'm about to come out of my hiding place, hands raised when she speaks.

"You know, they're not the only ones allowed to form alliances," My mouth drops open, _is she insinuating at an alliance between us?_

I peek out from behind my tree in disbelief, "You want me for an ally?" I can't believe that.

"Why not? You saved me with those tracker jackers. You're smart enough to still be alive. And I can't seem to shake you anyway." I'm shocked into silence, so I stand there blinking like an idiot. She seems to take my stoic silence as indecision and decides to say, "You hungry?"

I swallow, trying not to think of what I'll be turning down if I say no to this alliance, to absolve Katniss of guilt. My eyes-of their own accord-flick to the roasting meat, and she smiles. As she turns to wave me forward I catch a gold glint from something attached to her jacket. I look at it closely. It's a mockingjay. As if I needed another reason to trust Katniss. At this point I take it as a signal that teaming up with her now is the right decision.

"Come on then, I've had two kills today." I think for a moment, weighing the good I can do for Katniss, over the effect it could have on her if I die. I don't think she'll give up if I die-of course not she has to be there for her sister-so I decide to accept this alliance, for as long as she thinks it's needed.

"I can fix your stings." I say repaying her for her offer.

"Can you? How?" I dig into my food store and pull out a handful of plantain leaves.

"Where'd you find those?" She asks in wonder, it's almost as if she's seen these leaves before. Perhaps she has, but she couldn't find them or remember them.

"Just around," I say lightly, telling her the truth-they're everywhere in this arena to counteract the nests I assume. "We all carry them when we work in the orchards. They left a lot of nests there. There are a lot here, too." I say by way of warning.

"That's right. You're district 11. Agriculture," I smile, because she knows my district, which must mean she's noticed me. "Orchards, huh?" That must be how you can fly around the trees like you've got wings." My smile grows: she _has _noticed me. "Well, come on, then. Fix me up."

She settles down by the fire and rolls up her pants to show me the sting on her knee, assuming I don't already know about her wounds. I decide to play along with her, allowing her to not know about my careful aid over the past few days in the arena.

I sit beside her and begin chewing up the leaves. I worry she might protest, but if she recognized the leaves she must be close to someone who knew how to use them. Perhaps a doctor, or a healer in her district had shown her their use long before her games.

I press the gross mass of chewed leaves to her knee and wait for her conscious reaction. "Ohhhh." I know the feeling, it's as if all the venom is being pulled from the sting itself. Even after three days of being treated it still feels nice.

I giggle a little. I can only imagine her reaction to this process had I _not _treated them before. Then again, if I hadn't she'd probably still be out cold.

"Do my neck! Do my cheek!" She says excitedly, as if I were going to run off with my magic sting leaves.

I chew some more leaves and apply them, though I remind myself to collect more leaves later. I press some chewed leaves to her neck, and her cheek, and her reaction is just the same. She begins to laugh, and the sound is so musical that the mockingjays actually pick up her song. I smile with her.

"I've got something for that." She says, putting her bow and arrows to the side, and pulling out her burn ointment. She rubs some on, and I can't help but sigh.

"You have good sponsors." I say, wishing I had something more to give her, because this burn medicine-which has immediately stopped my burn from throbbing as it has been for days while I cared for her-is precious. She shouldn't be using it on me.

"Have you gotten anything yet?" I almost laugh at her question. What sane Capitol citizen would sponsor a tiny twelve-year-old like myself? I shake my head. "You will, though." She says, in a tone that suggests she wishes she could believe it. "Watch. The closer we get to the end, the more people will realize how clever you are." She leans forward to turn over the meat, which smells intensely appetizing.

Her use of the word 'we' isn't lost on me. "You weren't joking, about wanting me for an ally?" I ask, still in disbelief.

"No, I meant it." She says with a smile.

"Ok," I hold out my right hand, and she takes it. We shake, "It's a deal."

I smile at her easily, though I can read the reluctance in her eyes, she knows that this is a temporary alliance I'm sure, and I doubt she thinks I will kill her, so her weariness must be because she fears me being killed either during or after the alliance.

That's the problem with allies. You have to spend time with them. Unfortunately getting to know them makes them more human, and, consequently, harder to kill.

* * *

**Hey! Oh my gosh, you guys! I cannot believe the response I've had to this story. I'm sad to see it coming to a close so soon, but I'm proud to say it's been viewed just under two hundred times just this month! I hope you like it, please please please review. It means the world to me. **

**Let me know what you think of being in Rue's head? And what do you think of the way she acts around Katniss or the things she does to help her out? Your reviews make me a better writer, and feedback lets me know what you like (what I should keep doing) and what you don't like at all (what I should stop) or what you think I could add. **

**Thanks so much for your support. **

**R&R**


	16. Trust

Chapter 16

Trust

When the groosling is finished roasting I add my pile of plantain roots to the meal, because I know that roasting them will make them slightly less salty, and more delicious. They roast beside the bird and Katniss says, "I shot this earlier. Not sure what it's called but it looks good enough."

"Back at home we have it, it's called groosling."

She looks at me curiously, "You guys eat it a lot?" Oh. _Oh, she thinks we are far better off than 12. _

"Oh no!" I say quickly, I want her to know that we're alike-in at least a few ways. "No, only when a flock of them come into the orchards. The Peacekeepers shoot them if they do, and the workers get an amazing lunch that day." I sigh, remembering those instances.

"Oh, well I'm glad you've put a name to the bird, now I know for sure that he's edible," She says, poking the roasting bird with a stick, and smiling at me.

I giggle at her a little, and I can already see how being with me is changing her demeanor. I would imagine this is how she acts around Primrose-carefree, joyful, and happy. She doesn't know that I'm just like her; I'm the one in charge of getting food into my sibling's bellies.

I can tell as we eat in silence that Prine now has competition for being groosling's biggest fan. I smile as I bite into the leg Katniss has handed me.

I've never had so much meat in my possession at one time. In fact, in all my life the amount of meat I've probably contained amounts to that on both legs of this fat bird. I feel a little sad that I can't share this with my family, Prine especially, because they deserve it as much as I do.

I pick all the meat off the bone-unwilling to waste even the smallest piece. I set the bone down beside the fire, and sigh in content.

"Oh, I've never had a whole leg to myself before." I lean back on my hands, thinking of how much I may have had in one sitting. I would imagine the Peacekeepers took the choice cuts, such as the legs, thighs, and breasts, and left the rest to us workers. I've probably only ever had scraps of one part or another.

She looks at me with an indescribable expression then says, "Take the other."

"Really?" I ask quietly, somehow I doubt she wants a girl like me eating all her food.

"Take whatever you want. Now that I've got a bow and arrows, I can get more. Plus I've got snares. I can show you how to set them," I don't doubt that she can get more food, or that she'd teach me how to use snares.

I do stop short because I have nothing to give her. Being ally's means both people give something. I don't have anything more to offer her, so that leaves me owing her. I don't like owing people, especially when I'm going to die without paying them back.

"Oh take it," She assures me, putting the other leg in my hands. "It will only keep for a few days anyway, and we've got the whole bird plus the rabbit."

I could eat more, and this may be my last meal, so I decide to take it-besides I suppose I have paid Katniss back, she just doesn't know about it.

I take a bite, and Katniss processes my reaction to the fresh meat.

"I'd have thought, in district 11, you'd have a bit more to eat than us. You know, since you grow the food." She says bluntly.

"Oh, no, we're not allowed to eat the crops." Just the thought of it brings up memories of public whippings, and me shielding Prine's eyes from the carnage.

"They arrest you or something?" She sounds skeptical, but she has no idea how serious stealing the crops is taken in district 11.

"They whip you and make everyone else watch. The mayor's very strict about it." I wish I could say that it's something that happens once in a blue moon, but it's not. It happens all too often, a starving family needs a little extra food, so someone take an apple, an orange, or even a carrot. They get caught, they get whipped-if it's the first offense. If it's a second offense they're shot on the spot, not even a pause, they're thrown to the ground and shot right in the head.

I realize that I want to know more about district 12.

"Do you get all the coal you want?" I don't think they would, but who knows, maybe things are different in 12.

"No. Just what we buy and whatever we track in on our boots." It's a statement so simple you can't doubt that it's the truth.

"They feed us a little bit extra during the harvest, so that people can keep going longer." I smile a little at the thought; at least district 11 has _a _redeeming quality.

"Don't you have to be in school?" She asks questioningly.

"Not during the harvest." Even the smallest children don't have school. They stay home with the six year olds, and almost seven year olds, who stay with the oldest women of the district. Anyone from the ages of seven to sixty work in the field from sun up to sundown during the harvest. "Everyone works then." I doubt she knows exactly who I mean by 'everyone'.

"We should plan ahead." I say spontaneously, trying to stop thinking of home-it's painful. "Lay out our food, and combine it so we have plenty to eat."

"That's a good idea." She reaches into her backpack and adds her crackers and beef strips to the growing pile of food. I know from my surveillance days that she had them, but the fact that she brought them out to show me demonstrates how much she trusts me.

"Here, I have this too," I say adding my group of roots, leaves, and berries. I also add the nuts I collected while she was unconscious, and the berries I collected in the first few days of the arena.

She looks on at the pile with an impressed expression. Then she reaches into the pile and picks up one of the berries-she was so dehydrated at the time she first came across them that I doubt she even remember picking one, let alone it's shape.

"You sure this is safe?" She sounds reluctant.

"Oh, yes, we have them back at home. I've been eating them for days." I pop a few into my mouth and chew, proving to her that they're edible.

She tentatively bites into one and chews it appreciatively, nodding her assent at me. I smile lightly at her as she divides our spoils into two parts, in case we are separated.

I show her the rest of my supplies, and in comparison to hers they're inconsequential. "I know it's not much, but I had to get away from the Cornucopia fast." I had to follow Katniss.

"You did just right." She assures me, making me feel slightly less embarrassed about my supplies.

She starts taking apart her gear, laying it all out for me to see, and I gasp when I see the night vision goggles we have at home. I hadn't seen her with these before-she must not know how to use them.

"How did you get those?" I breathe, like an idiot; of course they came with her pack.

"In my pack. They've been useless so far. They don't block the sun and they make it harder to see." She shrugs, confirming my guess.

"They aren't for sun, they're for darkness. Sometimes, when we harvest through the night, they'll pass out a few pairs to those of us highest in the trees. Where the torchlight doesn't reach." I've had a pair before, but they actually hinder my harvesting because I'm so worried about breaking them. They work extraordinarily though. "One time," I say recounting a memory from when I was seven and the Peacekeepers killed Martin, a young boy who had some kind of condition, for taking a pair of the night vision goggles. "This boy Martin, he tried to keep his pair. Hid it in his pants. They killed him on the spot."

I resist the urge to cry as I had that night. It wasn't like he was planning a rebellion; he only wanted to play with his new toy. He was only seven years old, his first year in the orchards. No one even asked him to give them back, they saw him leaving with the glasses, and they just pulled the trigger. It was as if he was some kind of escaped animal that posed a threat to everyone.

It wasn't right.

"They killed a boy for taking these?" She sounds appalled at the conditions in 11. I am too.

"Yes," I say accusingly, "And everyone knew he was no danger. Martin wasn't right in the head. I mean, he still acted like a three-year-old. He just wanted the glasses to play with." I hope, against logic, that they're showing the whole of Panem this conversation, so I can hold them accountable for killing that poor boy.

"So what do these do?" She asks me turning the night vision goggles over in her hands.

"They let you see in complete darkness. Try them tonight when the sun goes down."

She gives me some of her matches, though I resist, and I force her to take some more tracker jacker leaves in case she needs them.

Katniss and I put out the fire and begin to continue her path from earlier, upstream alongside the river.

When the sun begins to set I see Katniss begin scanning the trees. I don't mind that she doesn't seem to remember I'm with her. It's instinct on her part, but I watch her eyes with purpose, watching to see what tree she's decided on. When I see it I smile, it's the one I would have chosen. There's a fork up about a hundred feet that looks very steady for it's height and the tree is thick with foliage. She'd be invisible there.

"Where do you sleep? In the trees?" She says, when she's chosen her tree. I almost smile at my misconception. She hadn't forgotten me, she was simply deciding when and where to stop, probably thinking I will resist going up into the trees to sleep at night or something.

I nod, and smile a little.

"In just your jacket?"

I don't want her to know that my sweatshirt's useable sections were donated to the 'Katniss Cause' as I like to refer to it, and I'd rather not dwell on what I lost in the fire.

Instead I hold up my spare socks and say, "I have these for my hands."

"You can share my sleeping bag if you want. We'll both easily fit."

I smile at her brightly, she must really trust me, and maybe she actually likes me. That's a surprise, I thought she'd view me as a burden, you know an annoying twelve year old. I never thought she might offer to share her sleeping bag, but I'm more than willing to sleep in warmth for tonight.

"Thanks," I say shyly.

"You have a preference?" She says nodding her chin to the trees in reference to our sleeping arrangements.

"Not really," I say nonchalantly, a plan forming in my mind. "But I was thinking maybe that one…" I point at a close tree-_her _tree.

She smiles in approval and nods. "Excellent choice!" She chirps happily.

"It's a gift," I say joking with her, a toothy smile on both our faces.

"Oh, is it now?" She smiles at me and I giggle while I nod.

She motions for me to climb ahead of her, and I start quickly. I reach the fork in half a minute and I wait for Katniss. We prepare for the night, and wedge ourselves into the fork of the tree. I relish the warmth in the sleeping bag.

When the anthem starts to play Katniss leans down to talk into my ear.

"Rue, I only woke up today." I already knew that, but she doesn't know that I know. "How many nights did I miss?"

I follow her lead and cover my lips to whisper in her ear, "Two, the girls from 1 and 4 are dead. There's ten of us left."

"Something strange happened. At least, I think it did." Where on earth is she going with this? "It might have been the tracker jacker venom making me imagine things. You know the boy from my district? Peeta?" _Oh… that. _"I think he saved my life. But he was with the Careers."

_Is she really that dense? Can she not see how desperately he loves her? _I guess not.

I try to decide what I can tell her without revealing Peeta's and my sort-of alliance, or my careful spying on her.

"He's not with them now." I say, venturing out to offer my information on the Careers base. "I've spied on their base camp by the lake. They made it back before they collapsed from the stingers. But he's not there," This I know for sure-he's collapsed somewhere along the riverbed. "Maybe he did save you and had to run." I venture, knowing full well that this is what occurred, if you forget a nearly fatal leg wound, delivered by the wonderful Cato.

"If he did, it was probably just part of his act. You know, to make people think he's in love with me."

I'm taken aback, she thinks his love is an act. Just something to get him sponsors. I'm sorry, but you don't put your life on the line for someone you don't love with your whole heart. "Oh," I say, unable to tell her how much he loves her, it isn't my place. I know in my heart that she will find out with time. "I didn't think that was an act." No one acts that well, that selflessly. Doesn't she know he's not acting?

"Course it is, he worked it out with our mentor." Perhaps he worked out the details-what would make his love work for Katniss in the Hunger Games, but the love was there before that. As he so eloquently put it, 'I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember.'

The anthem ends and Katniss says, "Let's try out these glasses." She slips them on, and gasps a little. It must be similar to my first reaction to the night vision goggles. "I wonder who else got a pair of these," She murmurs idly, not expecting a response.

I think for a moment, imagining the Careers camp in my mind as I come up with an answer. "The Careers have two pairs. But they've got everything down by the lake, and they're so strong." I leave out the rest of my thought, that Katniss is stronger, because I assume she will be much like me when it comes to comments on bravery and compliments.

"We're strong too, just in a different way." She says more for my benefit than hers.

"You are. You can shoot. What can I do?" I grimace at my words, I sound like a bratty child.

"You can feed yourself. Can they?" She asks simply, and suddenly I have a new path to lead her down.

"They don't need to. They have all those supplies"

"Say they didn't. Say the supplies were gone. How long would they last? I mean, it's the Hunger Games right?"

"But, Katniss, they're not hungry." I use my best 'innocent clueless' voice.

"No they're not. That's the problem." _Come on, you're almost there. _"I think we're going to have to fix that Rue." I smile into the darkness. She got it. She's understood my silent message.

And I promptly drift off to sleep.

* * *

**Hello! Hey, I know it's kind of late, but I hope you still get a chance to read this. Let me know what you think ASAP! I am writing the chapters as fast as I can, but reviews are a nice incentive to get writing... If at all possible I update daily, but I do have things to do, so please review if you really do like this story.**

**Well, what do you think of this chapter. Honestly, writing in Rue's POV is giving me a whole new perspective on the other characters. Especially Katniss, because in this story especially the next chapter, Rue looks up to and respects Katniss. Until I considered all the similarities between Rue and Katniss, and many other eldest siblings in their world, I didn't see how alike they really were. I think it's amazing, and sad all at once.**

**I know this is long, but please, please review, with any kind of feedback. It makes me a better writer, and it helps get what needs to be changed out there for me to see. **

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	17. Bonding

Chapter 17

Bonding

When I wake up, an hour before dawn, as usual, Katniss is still asleep. I wriggle out of the sleeping bag, taking extraordinary care to make sure I don't wake her. I know that I can't leave her here, she'll think I broke off the alliance, so I make it my job to collect breakfast.

I perch on a branch for a few moments, trying to decide what to gather. I scan the forest floor for what I know to be edible, but I don't see anything. I decide to look up, thinking I might be able to pilfer some more eggs from bird's nests.

I luck out, because I spot a nest about twenty feet away over a marsh area, and I climb to grab two eggs. I take them back down to the branch I was sharing with Katniss, but I reconsider and wait for her to wake up on a branch just above her. I could eat without her, but it wouldn't feel right, and I think she'd wait for me had our situations been reversed.

As the sunrises the birds begin to chirp, and communicate amongst one another. I take the time to whistle a few notes to the mockingjays, enjoying the sound of their sweet tones matching mine.

The sky is brightening when the cannon blasts. I wince, because the infection or blood loss, or even Cato-if he'd trekked through the woods at night-could have gotten to Peeta.

Katniss jerks awake, and I don't want to alarm her, but it seems our thoughts are close in proximity.

"Who do you think that was?" She says trepidation in her voice. The past tense 'was' gets to me, but she's right, whoever's cannon has just went off and they no longer 'are' they 'were'. The thought stings, it's hard to picture anyone saying, 'that _was _Rue Olgilby'. But it's inevitable.

"I don't know." It's a fight to keep my voice and expression controlled. "It could have been any of the others. I guess we'll know tonight."

"Who's left again?" She sounds tired, I hope I didn't cause her to lose sleep.

"The boy from district 1. Both tributes from 2. The boy from 3. Thresh and me. And you and Peeta. That's eight. Wait, and the boy from district 10, the one with the bad leg I think. He makes nine." I can't place the last tribute.

"I wonder how the last one died," It's a morbid thought, but I can't pretend I didn't have it.

"No telling. But it's good for us. A death should hold the crowd for a bit. Maybe we'll have time to do something before the Gamemakers decide things have been moving too slowly. What's in your hands?" She has seen the bird eggs.

"Breakfast." I say brightly holding them out for her to see.

"What kind are those?" She questions hesitantly.

"Not sure. There's a marshy area over that way. Some kind of waterbird." I shrug, they have to be edible; they are only eggs.

We suck out the insides of eggs, and she offers up a rabbit leg. I also add some berries. It's somewhat of a feast, and we'd never have this much food in 11.

After breakfast Katniss pulls on her pack and looks at me excitedly.

"Ready to do it?" She asks excitement coloring her voice.

It seeps into me, and I get excited as well. "Do what?" I say, thought I can guess what she's hinting at.

"Today we take out the Careers' food." It's a proud announcement.

"Really? How?" I hope she has a plan.

"No idea. Come on, we'll figure out a plan while we hunt." She seems to be relieved at my willingness to try a risky plan. Did she expect me to be _difficult?_

We climb down from the tree, and I decide to offer up my knowledge of the Careers camp to the fullest.

"What do you need to know about the Careers base?" I ask confident I can remember things. "I was only there for about fifteen minutes, but I can remember things better if you ask about them. It helps me visualize."

"Where exactly is the camp itself?" She asks, accepting my offer to share information.

"It's beside the lake, at least, that's where sleep."

"Ok. And the food stash?"

"That's where is stops making sense." I say nervously. "Their supplies sit a little ways away from where they sleep, and it's all piled up."

"Exactly how far is 'a little ways away'?" She asks with a smile.

"Um… about 30 yards I would guess."

"And they leave it alone while they're gone during the day?"

"Oh, no. The boy from disritct 3 has been keeping watch." That's another piece of information that doesn't make sense.

"The boy from district 3? He's working with them?" She sounds weary.

"Yes," Then I add what I think to be true. "He stays at camp full-time. He got stung, too, when they drew the tracker jackers in by the lake." This is a total guess on my part, but I assume that if he'd been fine Cato would have dragged him along to help him kill Peeta. It seems logical. "I guess they agreed to let him live if he acted as their guard. But he's not very big." I add to clarify.

"What weapons does he have?" I shut my eyes briefly, envisioning the camp. When the Career pack had returned the boy from 3 had jumped up quickly knocking his spear to the ground…

"Not much that I could see. A spear. He might be able to hold a few of us off with that, but Thresh could kill him easily." I think, if it came down to the two of them, Katniss could take him as well.

"And the food's just out in the open?" I nod. "Something's not quite right about that whole setup."

"I know," I concur. "But I couldn't tell what exactly." Then I consider what Katniss thinks she can do with this information. "Katniss, even if you could get to the food, how would you get rid of it?" It would need to be fast, quiet, and something that left them completely unsure of who the culprit was. She must know that.

"Burn it. Dump it in the lake. Soak it in fuel." Her tone is rising in her giddiness, and she pokes me in the stomach, much like I would with Prine. "Eat it! Don't worry, I'll think of something. Destroying things is much easier than making them." She's got a point with that, so I let myself fall silent, letting her consider my words.

I think about Katniss's playful dynamic with me, and I know this is how an older sister treats a younger sister. In just two days we've already formed a strong bond. I love her as I love Prine, Marope, or even Pleione. She is already a big sister to me, in the same way I'm sure she is to Primrose.

A few minutes later she sparks up a conversation. She wants to talk strategy.

"What we really need to do is get them away from camp." She murmurs, almost to herself.

"How could we do that? I don't think there's much they would come after." I say, supplying my opinion.

"All I can think is if they thought they were coming for _me_ they wouldn't even stop to consider the logic behind what was happening. Besides, if Peeta really did save me I bet Cato's pretty bitter about the whole situation."

"But _you _aren't bait." I say, making it clear that I don't want Katniss to be leaving me to destroying supplies, or giving herself up to the Careers!

"No. We just have to make them think I am." I smile at her puzzle. Then I have an idea.

"What if I lit a fire? One that we use in 11 during the harvest-they're huge, and they smoke like crazy."

"Yeah? Why?"

"They light up the orchards at night while we work and the smoke puts the tracker jackers into a trance-like state, because it's harder to see the nests in the dark. They're simple to light, and I could have it set up while you head to position by the camp, I could light it and bolt." It's a long shot at best, but it's all I've got.

"That's actually not bad." Katniss says approvingly. "A few things though, what if we lit more than one fire? Would that lead them even farther off track?"

"It's worth at shot, but they might find out what's going on quicker."

"There's that." She shrugs, "but I don't think the one fire will buy us enough time."

"I guess it wouldn't." I say, agreeing with her.

"What if you lit three fires?" She asks, a rebellious glint in her grey eyes.

"Three?" That's an odd choice.

"Three. One to lead them into the forest. One to distract them, get them a little farther from the camp. And one to confuse them before they figure out they've been played.

"It should be about a mile from their camp, I'd guess." She looks at me pointedly. "Do you know how fast they move?"

I think it over for a moment. I consider the night I trailed them from Katniss's tree to their camp at the Cornucopia. It had taken _forever._

"Not very fast, probably about twenty minutes to cover a mile. They don't walk that slowly, but they get distracted easily. They stop to look at this or that. They aren't like you or I, they have very distracted minds, whereas you and I see a goal and we meet it, without faltering, or pausing." I smile at her.

"I figured as much." She nods in assent. "So if the fires were at least a mile-maybe even a little under a mile-away, it would give me anywhere from a guaranteed thirty-forty minutes at the camp to 'take care of' their food." She smirks at me evilly.

I laugh lightly. "Where in 12 did you learn to be so _devious?_" I question her lightly.

"Just around. 12 is that sort of place, you know?" But she's eyeing the woods enough to tell me that her daringness is in whatever way tied to the woods-probably her hunting, and snares. "How about you? Is there much adventure in 11?"

"Not unless you consider collecting food at the crack of dawn to be an adventure." I smile at her, showing her I actually like my job.

"I don't, not unless there's a risk factor. Is it illegal?" She's teasing, and I know it. She'd never ask if she thought it was-or if she thought I'd get out of here alive.

I drop my mouth open in mock outrage at her implication. "Absolutely not! I am a law abiding citizen of Panem!" I begin to laugh, though it's true. It sounds as though I think my country is worthy of something like _respect. _Ha!

"Sure you are…" She trails off suggestively.

"Really, it's perfectly legal to get food from the empty fields beside our fences. It helps put food on the table for my siblings. Peacekeepers actually encourage it-though they don't teach anyone where the food is-because it keeps mortality rates lower. Less kids starving means a stronger workforce." I shrug, but I know she's reading my message, '11 is no place to relax and risk breaking the law', as I'm sure she does to hunt.

"Yeah? You said something about siblings…?" I smile at the thought of my family.

"Yes, I'm the oldest of six." Her eyes widen in shock. "My parents love children, and I _was _the perfect model. They wanted five more." I add flippantly, trying to get her to laugh. It works.

"Brothers? Sisters?" She looks distressed when she says 'sisters'.

"Yes. Two brothers, three sisters."

"Wow. How old?" She can tell I'm enjoying sharing about my family.

"Prine and Flux are nine, Marope is seven, Magnus is five, and Pleione is only three. She's still a tiny thing." I add with a sad smile. I have a deflating thought-Pleione probably won't remember me when I'm gone. She's so young that it will be to hard for her to understand where I've gone. Poor thing.

"_Two _nine year olds?" Katniss is taken aback.

"They were twins." I admit. "It was a risky pregnancy, but my mom pulled through. Then she had three more." I giggle, remembering what my mother once told me.

_"Rue, children bring joy into this world-a world with too few smiles. So if this is my small way of contribute to the happiness of the remaining _good _in humanity, then how can I resist?" _

Then she had kissed my forehead and sent me to bed. I still remember that like it was yesterday, though it was years ago, after Marope was born, but before Magnus.

"You mom sounds very nice. I bet your father is too, to have raised such a brilliant daughter." Katniss says, as much a compliment to my parents as it is too me.

I ignore the comment about me. "They are wonderful. I love my family more than my life. I know they're with me." I smile at Katniss.

"I know how you feel." I know she does, she displayed her love for all of Panem.

"Primrose." I say quietly.

"My little sister. She's only twelve. She didn't even have tesserae in that glass ball." Her voice wavers at the end. I know she's picturing Primrose being forced to take tesserae if Katniss dies, and being reaped again, with no one to save her.

"You did the right thing." I say, hoping she knows I mean, 'you'll go home. You'll see her again'.

She shakes her head slowly. "No, I did the _only _thing. I have no doubt you would do the same for any of your siblings. I bet you do so much for them already."

She doesn't know how strongly her words have affected me. I wish I knew for sure that I could have-would have- done the same, had I been in Katniss's position. I can only hope I would have been that brave, that courageous.

"Not really," I say quietly, staring at the ground as we collect various roots, leaves, and food types. "I just do my job."

"You do the same things I do. I can tell. You give them your food, so they don't go hungry. You make their birthdays special, even if only in the limited way you can manage. And, for whatever reason there are times when you have to act like their parent."

She's hit the nail on the head. I make their birthdays special, and I do act as a parent when my parents work for extra money during the non-harvest season. Tears pool in my eyes, but I blink them back, and I nod.

"We're a lot alike you know?" She offers me a small smile. I just nod again.

Katniss is quickly becoming one of my role models, and she thinks I'm like her. That's more than I could ask for. I want to learn more about her.

"What is she like, Primrose?"

"Oh. Prim is very… kind. She's more compassionate, and caring then I'll ever be. She is loving and sweet and fragile. She wouldn't last here." She gestures to the arena as a whole. Then she looks me right in the eyes and says, "I probably would have died watching her in the arena."

I know what she means, but I'm surprised that Katniss has let me into her circle of trust. It's clear that few people are included in it. I'm honored that she trusts me this much.

Katniss turns to me, "Time for a topic change," She smiles and I know she's not irritated by me, yet. "What do you love most in the world? Other than your family?" She clarifies her question, but I knew what she meant.

That's easy, "Music." I expect her response.

"Music?" Her tone is incredulous. She probably thinks it's a waste of time. "You have a lot of time for that?"

"We sing at home. At work too. That's why I love your pin." I point at the golden bird, and she looks down, seeming to remember that it's there.

"You have mockingjays?"

"Oh, yes. I have a few that are my special friends. We can sing back and forth for hours. They carry messages for me." Hopefully Prine has taken over my job, in the highest trees, talking to the birds, and signaling that the quitting flag is flying. I know she won't let me down.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm usually up highest, so I'm the first to see the flag that signals quitting time. There's a special little song I do," I sing the four note melody to the adjacent mockingjays. "And the mockingjays spread it around the orchard. That's how everyone knows to know off. They can be dangerous though," I add as a warning to Katniss. "If you get too near their nests. But you can't blame them for that."

She seems to marvel at me for a moment. As if she's shocked that in a world such as mine, I've found something so innocent, so trivial that is my favorite thing.

She begins to remove the pin. Then she holds it out to me. Now I understand, and while it's a kind gesture, I can't accept. The mockingjay is part of who she is-I can feel it.

"Here, you take it. It has more meaning for you than me."

"Oh, no." I gently close the pin in her palm. "I like to see it on you. That's how I decided I could trust you," That's only a small lie. The mockingjay pin _had _been a signal, just not the main one. "Besides, I have this." I assure her with my token.

I show it to her, and she looks confused. I explain, "It's a good luck charm."

"Well, it's worked so far." She refastens the pin to her shirt. "Maybe you should just stick with that." I give her a tentative smile.

Her generosity and humility continue to shock me. She values her sister's life more than her own, and it's clear. She was willing to give me the only thing she has in this arena to remind her of home.

Somehow, in our world, a perfectly independent Katniss Everdeen seems to have been raised, seemingly unaffected by the Capitol, and it's controlling rule. It's as if she knows how to operate _just_ under, every radar. Knowing her, that's exactly what she does.

* * *

**Hey guys! I wanted to post another chapter, even though we are so close to the end and it appears as though there will only be two more chapters *gasp*. I am going to miss writing this story, but I do have some other ideas. We will just have to see.  
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**Now, on to this chapter. What do you think? Please be honest. This chapter was full of my words, and dialogue because Suzanne Collins never actually wrote out Rue's and Katniss's conversation. She took the easy way out, "And I come to know Rue..." etc. I saw this as an opportunity for character development and I jumped at the chance to write it all out. Let me know if you think somone was OOC. I think I might have been a little off with Katniss.  
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**Please, please, please, review. It makes me a better writer (no joke), and it helps motivate me to write faster.  
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**Thanks for your view and amazing response and support so far,  
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	18. Trapped

Chapter 18

Trapped

By the time we rest for lunch our plan is ready. I will handle the diversion, and Katniss is destroying the food. She is in charge of handling the supplies, and I have to make sure to get things done on my end.

We prep two of the three fires I have to light by carrying wood, and lots of green vegetation that will smoke visibly so that the Careers will spot it quickly.

It will be my job to set up the third fire and light it. I will have plenty of time.

We set up our meeting point back at the spot where we shared our first meal. Where we became allies-real allies.

She won't leave until she makes sure I have plenty of food, and matches to light the fire, in case we are separated for whatever reason. She also forces me to take her sleeping bag, in case she's still gone tonight.

"What about you? Won't you be cold?" I ask apprehensively.

"Not if I pick up another bag by the lake. You know, stealing isn't illegal here." So that's what she's getting at. She's grinning at me, but that doesn't help the uneasy feeling that's bubbling up in me.

"Wait!" I squeak, before she leaves. "I want to teach you my song, the one that I use to signal the work day is done." I sing out the strand of notes quickly. They're clear, simple, and they carry a message to those who know it-now Katniss is one of those people. "It might not work. But if you hear the mockingjays singing it, you'll know I'm ok, only I can't get back right away."

"Are there many mockingjays here?" I'm surprised she hasn't noticed them.

"Haven't you seen them? They've got nests everywhere."

"Ok, then. If all goes according to plan, I'll see you for dinner." She smiles at me.

It's all too much-her kindness, the mockingjay song, and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I throw my arms around her, and she hesitantly hugs me back. In such short time I've grown very attached to Katniss.

Somehow I know this is goodbye. I whisper the word over her shoulder, and I know she doesn't hear it.

"You be careful." I instruct her.

"You, too." She says, and then turns back toward the stream.

"Bye," I whisper after her. I know this will be my last goodbye to her. Somehow, I just know.

I climb high into a tree, and make my way back, so I'm just over the first fire. I make an executive decision to spend my free hours now to put together the third fire. I construct it perfectly, using the other two as my example. When it's complete I retreat into a tree to wait.

I know it will take Katniss some time to reach the Careers camp from here. I absentmindedly eat some of my berries and think of home. At this point it seems very morbid to think about what I will be missing when I die, but I can't help but think about my family.

I just hope this doesn't kill their spirit. Not that I put so much importance on myself, really, but I don't think the people from my district will just let me go. Even after they bury my cold, lifeless body, I doubt people will be so kind as to not bring up the topic.

They aren't cruel intentionally. But I see it. The same every year when the dead tribute is brought home and buried, everyone wishes to express his or her grievances. It takes months for the whole district to work their way around to saying something to the families.

The deceased's loved ones always say thank you, and they're very polite about it, but you can see the pain in their eyes. They just want to grieve alone. Not with all the people of 11, who pretend like they knew the dead tribute, but didn't. No one will understand my family's pain, and that's what kills me. Maybe they will befriend Thresh's family and mourn together.

I make a silent plea that my family just moves on. They just need to pull through, for Prine, for Flux, for all of them. They deserve a future that's not tainted by thoughts of their dead sister. _Just, please, grant them that much, in this messed up world. _

My selfish thoughts are interrupted by a noise in the trees. I turn to it, only to find a mockingjay perched three branches over. It's the perfect way for me to tell them goodbye, if I'm on screen. It all depends on what Katniss is doing at this second.

Either way, singing will make me feel better. I open my mouth, but I don't sing the words to my song, just the notes. They form a simple, recognizable, melody that my family knows well. It's my favorite song, because it's about a girl who lives to protect her family. They always say she's like me, but she's not.

Katniss is the very embodiment of the girl in my favorite song. I sing the melody over and over, hoping that they will play it at least once on the live screens, so my family will see. I smile at the bird when I'm done singing.

During my songs it picked up the tune and sang it along with me, giving the song the layers that come from multiple people singing. I smile as it falls silent, and stare at it. As we sang harmoniously it moved closer, and it's now perched on my branch.

I turn, so it appears that I'm talking to the mockingjay, but my family knows this is for them.

"I'm sure going to miss you." I keep the careful smile on my face, and it doesn't fly away. "Remember that song, ok?" The bird cocks its head in confusion and I laugh lightly.

My family will get the message, just as long as they've seen it.

Another few minutes of waiting, later, and I'm ready to light the first fire. I scramble down the tree and work on lighting the dry materials we collected first. Using the match it's a cinch, and the fire is blazing in just under two minutes. It begins to smoke heavily three minutes later when the greenery catches.

I take off, moving like a shadow through the trees over to the second fire. I don't light it yet, but I do stay high, so a passerby couldn't spot me.

I hear them coming closer, first it's only a few shouts, every ten minutes or so, but then it's clearer. I wince as I make out their words.

In an attempt to block out their harsh conversations I light the second fire, pulling the greens off the top to prevent heavy smoke until they're in closer.

I can still hear them: "When we find her I kill her, and _not one person_ says a word. She made me look like a fool. An eleven? What did a ditzy girl from 12 do to get an eleven?" Male.

"I don't know, but she must not be anything special, she's been laying too low. Can't wait to see her face when we crash her little powwow."

It surprises me that they don't know how smart Katniss is. One downfall of thinking yourself to be invincible-you don't take the time to learn the personalities, and in turn weaknesses or strengths, of your competitors.

I add the greens to the second fire, while it's still small-not having taken to the flame as well as the first fire-because I know it will be another ten minutes before they catch, and I expect even longer before they send smoke into the sky.

I block out the Careers conversation by moving to the third fire, and putting significant distance between the pack and myself.

Fifteen minutes later I find that I've badly misjudged the time it has taken them to make it from fire two to fire three. I scramble, trying to light the fire, as they run in my direction, suspecting a trick. When the wood won't catch I abandon trying to light it, and I scramble into the trees.

I jump three trees over, but I can still hear their conversation-for the most part.

"Where did she go?" The leader-Cato-screams angrily, "Split up. Find her. Bring her to me. Alive." I shudder at the thought of what he might do to her, if she were really here. I'm glad I could assist her with this dangerous mission.

They branch out to search, but no one comes my way. Three minutes later they give up searching, seeing that 'Katniss' has disappeared.

I freeze in my tree as the noise hits me. It's an explosion, no doubt. The ground rumbles, and the noise deafens me briefly, even at this distance. I can't imagine being closer-_Katniss!_ I think with concern, but I quickly dismiss the thought, she knows what she's doing.

Cato, and the pack freeze at the sound, until the exploding stops.

"Sounds like we got someone," His voice sounds smug-until the next wave of explosions begin, triggered by something or someone.

"I swear if that good for nothing boy from 3 just blew up all our supplies-!" Then he takes off running back to the base with the pack on his heels.

I smile, because our plan has worked, but I head back to the third fire, thinking I will light it, before making my way back to the rendezvous point.

I think about who may have rigged the food to explode and I decide it must be the boy from 3. Unfortunately for him the Careers aren't too happy, and I suspect he's the cannon I hear minutes after the Careers have left the scene of the third fire. I can't bear to think they may have gotten Katniss. She's smarter than that-I hope.

I stop short when I realize it's growing dark, and the Careers will probably be out hunting, especially after our little trick. I also think about the fact that they think whomever blew up their food is dead. They will know that whoever that person was had an ally on their side. I'm hoping that what they don't know-at least until the anthem plays-that the person responsible for the explosions isn't dead. That will give Katniss time to get out of there.

By the time night falls I decide to double back, and stop about halfway from the second fire to the third, unlit fire. I snuggle down into the sleeping bag, thanking Katniss silently for her generosity. I fall asleep quickly, after the anthem and the faces confirm that Katniss is still alive, and I don't wake up at all during the night.

When I wake up it's just before dawn, as usual. I begin to prepare to make my rendezvous with Katniss. I listen for a second for the sound of a mockingjay. There's nothing. I'm puzzled; there have been mockingjays all over this arena. The only time they weren't present… my heart speeds up. The only time they weren't present was when there was a tribute besides Katniss of myself around.

I freeze in my tree, listening. Sure enough I hear rusting of leaves, and a person speaking.

"I'll wait here. You go back." It's a male, speaking to other people. Must be a Career.

"Fine. Come back before nightfall." _Oh no, _I think. With him waiting just under my tree, as far as I can tell, I can't go meet Katniss. Even if I were to stay in the trees it's too close to him for me to be moving around, he'd see me for sure.

I'm stuck in this tree until he leaves. _Great._ I can't leave this spot in this tree until nightfall? I can't even sing to the mockingjays, I don't sound like a bird when I sing, I sound like a human, for obvious reasons, and that would give me up. I have to sit and wait.

Half the day passes quickly. I munch on berries and roots. They fill my stomach, and I slowly ease the sleeping bag off inch by inch, so that the movement would be imperceptible from the ground. I pack my things away, and prepare to move whenever the unknown tribute leaves.

I hear a few scuffles that suggest movement coming from the direction of my third unlit fire. I begin to panic. It's slowly turning into evening, and Katniss could have decided to come look for me after I didn't appear at the rendezvous all morning. _Oh no. She'll walk right into this trap. _

I can't exactly climb down without getting myself killed instantly, so I can't warn Katniss that way. I have to think of something. I decide to risk singing to the mockingjays. If I whistle my tune to them as if I were a bird someone might not question that I wasn't just another bird.

It's risky, and I can't decide what Katniss's reaction would be to hearing it. She may return to the meeting place and wait, which would be ideal, but I think it's more than likely that her instincts will takes over-she'll try to come get me. To protect me. Unfortunately that would lead to my death, because I would willingly die for her. I think she would come towards the mockingjay's song.

At this point, I don't have many options that don't end with me dead before nightfall, so I decide to try whistling to the mockingjay close by. The tribute staking out my tree hasn't moved all day, so some of the birds have came close enough to hear my song.

I whistle the tune once, then twice. The tribute below me doesn't move, so I assume he hasn't heard my songs. I'm motionless in my tree waiting for Katniss to hear my message.

In a few moments she sings back. That would comfort me, except she's coming closer. I'm running out of time. If she comes too close the Career will hear her, and kill her. I can't let this happen.

I shift on my branch so I can look down on my enemy. It's the boy from 1, Marvel. I feel a little sorry for him, if this goes according to plan Cato will not be happy-he'll be returning without any kills.

I take out my slingshot and send a rock flying through the air. It lands a good hundred feet from his hideout. He gets up and walks that direction slowly, giving me enough time to descend from my tree-I have to stop Katniss. I can hear her approaching.

I drop the last few feet to the ground, but just as my feet connect with the earth I feel pressure release, almost as if I've triggered something. One glance up and I see that I have. A huge net collapses on me, throwing me to the ground. I know I'm as good as dead now, and Marvel knows I'm here.

I cut my losses-I know I'm about to die-and scream out, trying to warn Katniss. I'm hoping she'll do what a normal person would, and run away.

The net is heavy on my chest so I can only manage to call "Katniss-!" Before I have to take another breath. I breathe deeply and scream "Katniss-" But I'm cut off by her response.

"Rue! Rue I'm coming!" _No! _I know she's trying to deflect the attackers off me. _No! That's not what I was going for! _

I see her crash through the trees seconds after her scream.

I poke my hand through the net to shoo her away-she has to go! Doesn't she see that? "Katniss," I begin to tell her she has to leave.

Then I feel the spear pierce my abdomen. A pain so sharp, so concentrated that it makes thinking a challenge rips through my body. I know this is the end for me.

* * *

**Hey guys! This is the second to last chapter :'(. I have the last chapter written already, and it will be posted tomorrow-pending some kind of traumatic disaster. I love writing this fanfic and I hope to start another fanfic soon, so if you could follow me as an author that'd be great. **

**What did you think of this chapter? Did you like my version of what happened? Did you think my idea of Rue trying to save Katniss and getting killed was good? I thought that was something Rue would do-give her life to save Katniss. Please review, I really appreciate it.  
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	19. The End

Chapter 17

Bonding

When I wake up, an hour before dawn, as usual, Katniss is still asleep. I wriggle out of the sleeping bag, taking extraordinary care to make sure I don't wake her. I know that I can't leave her here, she'll think I broke off the alliance, so I make it my job to collect breakfast.

I perch on a branch for a few moments, trying to decide what to gather. I scan the forest floor for what I know to be edible, but I don't see anything. I decide to look up, thinking I might be able to pilfer some more eggs from bird's nests.

I luck out, because I spot a nest about twenty feet away over a marsh area, and I climb to grab two eggs. I take them back down to the branch I was sharing with Katniss, but I reconsider and wait for her to wake up on a branch just above her. I could eat without her, but it wouldn't feel right, and I think she'd wait for me had our situations been reversed.

As the sunrises the birds begin to chirp, and communicate amongst one another. I take the time to whistle a few notes to the mockingjays, enjoying the sound of their sweet tones matching mine.

The sky is brightening when the cannon blasts. I wince, because the infection or blood loss, or even Cato-if he'd trekked through the woods at night-could have gotten to Peeta.

Katniss jerks awake, and I don't want to alarm her, but it seems our thoughts are close in proximity.

"Who do you think that was?" She says trepidation in her voice. The past tense 'was' gets to me, but she's right, whoever's cannon has just went off and they no longer 'are' they 'were'. The thought stings, it's hard to picture anyone saying, 'that _was _Rue Olgilby'. But it's inevitable.

"I don't know." It's a fight to keep my voice and expression controlled. "It could have been any of the others. I guess we'll know tonight."

"Who's left again?" She sounds tired, I hope I didn't cause her to lose sleep.

"The boy from district 1. Both tributes from 2. The boy from 3. Thresh and me. And you and Peeta. That's eight. Wait, and the boy from district 10, the one with the bad leg I think. He makes nine." I can't place the last tribute.

"I wonder how the last one died," It's a morbid thought, but I can't pretend I didn't have it.

"No telling. But it's good for us. A death should hold the crowd for a bit. Maybe we'll have time to do something before the Gamemakers decide things have been moving too slowly. What's in your hands?" She has seen the bird eggs.

"Breakfast." I say brightly holding them out for her to see.

"What kind are those?" She questions hesitantly.

"Not sure. There's a marshy area over that way. Some kind of waterbird." I shrug, they have to be edible; they are only eggs.

We suck out the insides of eggs, and she offers up a rabbit leg. I also add some berries. It's somewhat of a feast, and we'd never have this much food in 11.

After breakfast Katniss pulls on her pack and looks at me excitedly.

"Ready to do it?" She asks excitement coloring her voice.

It seeps into me, and I get excited as well. "Do what?" I say, thought I can guess what she's hinting at.

"Today we take out the Careers' food." It's a proud announcement.

"Really? How?" I hope she has a plan.

"No idea. Come on, we'll figure out a plan while we hunt." She seems to be relieved at my willingness to try a risky plan. Did she expect me to be _difficult?_

We climb down from the tree, and I decide to offer up my knowledge of the Careers camp to the fullest.

"What do you need to know about the Careers base?" I ask confident I can remember things. "I was only there for about fifteen minutes, but I can remember things better if you ask about them. It helps me visualize."

"Where exactly is the camp itself?" She asks, accepting my offer to share information.

"It's beside the lake, at least, that's where sleep."

"Ok. And the food stash?"

"That's where is stops making sense." I say nervously. "Their supplies sit a little ways away from where they sleep, and it's all piled up."

"Exactly how far is 'a little ways away'?" She asks with a smile.

"Um… about 30 yards I would guess."

"And they leave it alone while they're gone during the day?"

"Oh, no. The boy from disritct 3 has been keeping watch." That's another piece of information that doesn't make sense.

"The boy from district 3? He's working with them?" She sounds weary.

"Yes," Then I add what I think to be true. "He stays at camp full-time. He got stung, too, when they drew the tracker jackers in by the lake." This is a total guess on my part, but I assume that if he'd been fine Cato would have dragged him along to help him kill Peeta. It seems logical. "I guess they agreed to let him live if he acted as their guard. But he's not very big." I add to clarify.

"What weapons does he have?" I shut my eyes briefly, envisioning the camp. When the Career pack had returned the boy from 3 had jumped up quickly knocking his spear to the ground…

"Not much that I could see. A spear. He might be able to hold a few of us off with that, but Thresh could kill him easily." I think, if it came down to the two of them, Katniss could take him as well.

"And the food's just out in the open?" I nod. "Something's not quite right about that whole setup."

"I know," I concur. "But I couldn't tell what exactly." Then I consider what Katniss thinks she can do with this information. "Katniss, even if you could get to the food, how would you get rid of it?" It would need to be fast, quiet, and something that left them completely unsure of who the culprit was. She must know that.

"Burn it. Dump it in the lake. Soak it in fuel." Her tone is rising in her giddiness, and she pokes me in the stomach, much like I would with Prine. "Eat it! Don't worry, I'll think of something. Destroying things is much easier than making them." She's got a point with that, so I let myself fall silent, letting her consider my words.

I think about Katniss's playful dynamic with me, and I know this is how an older sister treats a younger sister. In just two days we've already formed a strong bond. I love her as I love Prine, Marope, or even Pleione. She is already a big sister to me, in the same way I'm sure she is to Primrose.

A few minutes later she sparks up a conversation. She wants to talk strategy.

"What we really need to do is get them away from camp." She murmurs, almost to herself.

"How could we do that? I don't think there's much they would come after." I say, supplying my opinion.

"All I can think is if they thought they were coming for _me_ they wouldn't even stop to consider the logic behind what was happening. Besides, if Peeta really did save me I bet Cato's pretty bitter about the whole situation."

"But _you _aren't bait." I say, making it clear that I don't want Katniss to be leaving me to destroying supplies, or giving herself up to the Careers!

"No. We just have to make them think I am." I smile at her puzzle. Then I have an idea.

"What if I lit a fire? One that we use in 11 during the harvest-they're huge, and they smoke like crazy."

"Yeah? Why?"

"They light up the orchards at night while we work and the smoke puts the tracker jackers into a trance-like state, because it's harder to see the nests in the dark. They're simple to light, and I could have it set up while you head to position by the camp, I could light it and bolt." It's a long shot at best, but it's all I've got.

"That's actually not bad." Katniss says approvingly. "A few things though, what if we lit more than one fire? Would that lead them even farther off track?"

"It's worth at shot, but they might find out what's going on quicker."

"There's that." She shrugs, "but I don't think the one fire will buy us enough time."

"I guess it wouldn't." I say, agreeing with her.

"What if you lit three fires?" She asks, a rebellious glint in her grey eyes.

"Three?" That's an odd choice.

"Three. One to lead them into the forest. One to distract them, get them a little farther from the camp. And one to confuse them before they figure out they've been played.

"It should be about a mile from their camp, I'd guess." She looks at me pointedly. "Do you know how fast they move?"

I think it over for a moment. I consider the night I trailed them from Katniss's tree to their camp at the Cornucopia. It had taken _forever._

"Not very fast, probably about twenty minutes to cover a mile. They don't walk that slowly, but they get distracted easily. They stop to look at this or that. They aren't like you or I, they have very distracted minds, whereas you and I see a goal and we meet it, without faltering, or pausing." I smile at her.

"I figured as much." She nods in assent. "So if the fires were at least a mile-maybe even a little under a mile-away, it would give me anywhere from a guaranteed thirty-forty minutes at the camp to 'take care of' their food." She smirks at me evilly.

I laugh lightly. "Where in 12 did you learn to be so _devious?_" I question her lightly.

"Just around. 12 is that sort of place, you know?" But she's eyeing the woods enough to tell me that her daringness is in whatever way tied to the woods-probably her hunting, and snares. "How about you? Is there much adventure in 11?"

"Not unless you consider collecting food at the crack of dawn to be an adventure." I smile at her, showing her I actually like my job.

"I don't, not unless there's a risk factor. Is it illegal?" She's teasing, and I know it. She'd never ask if she thought it was-or if she thought I'd get out of here alive.

I drop my mouth open in mock outrage at her implication. "Absolutely not! I am a law abiding citizen of Panem!" I begin to laugh, though it's true. It sounds as though I think my country is worthy of something like _respect. _Ha!

"Sure you are…" She trails off suggestively.

"Really, it's perfectly legal to get food from the empty fields beside our fences. It helps put food on the table for my siblings. Peacekeepers actually encourage it-though they don't teach anyone where the food is-because it keeps mortality rates lower. Less kids starving means a stronger workforce." I shrug, but I know she's reading my message, '11 is no place to relax and risk breaking the law', as I'm sure she does to hunt.

"Yeah? You said something about siblings…?" I smile at the thought of my family.

"Yes, I'm the oldest of six." Her eyes widen in shock. "My parents love children, and I _was _the perfect model. They wanted five more." I add flippantly, trying to get her to laugh. It works.

"Brothers? Sisters?" She looks distressed when she says 'sisters'.

"Yes. Two brothers, three sisters."

"Wow. How old?" She can tell I'm enjoying sharing about my family.

"Prine and Flux are nine, Marope is seven, Magnus is five, and Pleione is only three. She's still a tiny thing." I add with a sad smile. I have a deflating thought-Pleione probably won't remember me when I'm gone. She's so young that it will be to hard for her to understand where I've gone. Poor thing.

"_Two _nine year olds?" Katniss is taken aback.

"They were twins." I admit. "It was a risky pregnancy, but my mom pulled through. Then she had three more." I giggle, remembering what my mother once told me.

_"Rue, children bring joy into this world-a world with too few smiles. So if this is my small way of contribute to the happiness of the remaining _good _in humanity, then how can I resist?" _

Then she had kissed my forehead and sent me to bed. I still remember that like it was yesterday, though it was years ago, after Marope was born, but before Magnus.

"You mom sounds very nice. I bet your father is too, to have raised such a brilliant daughter." Katniss says, as much a compliment to my parents as it is too me.

I ignore the comment about me. "They are wonderful. I love my family more than my life. I know they're with me." I smile at Katniss.

"I know how you feel." I know she does, she displayed her love for all of Panem.

"Primrose." I say quietly.

"My little sister. She's only twelve. She didn't even have tesserae in that glass ball." Her voice wavers at the end. I know she's picturing Primrose being forced to take tesserae if Katniss dies, and being reaped again, with no one to save her.

"You did the right thing." I say, hoping she knows I mean, 'you'll go home. You'll see her again'.

She shakes her head slowly. "No, I did the _only _thing. I have no doubt you would do the same for any of your siblings. I bet you do so much for them already."

She doesn't know how strongly her words have affected me. I wish I knew for sure that I could have-would have- done the same, had I been in Katniss's position. I can only hope I would have been that brave, that courageous.

"Not really," I say quietly, staring at the ground as we collect various roots, leaves, and food types. "I just do my job."

"You do the same things I do. I can tell. You give them your food, so they don't go hungry. You make their birthdays special, even if only in the limited way you can manage. And, for whatever reason there are times when you have to act like their parent."

She's hit the nail on the head. I make their birthdays special, and I do act as a parent when my parents work for extra money during the non-harvest season. Tears pool in my eyes, but I blink them back, and I nod.

"We're a lot alike you know?" She offers me a small smile. I just nod again.

Katniss is quickly becoming one of my role models, and she thinks I'm like her. That's more than I could ask for. I want to learn more about her.

"What is she like, Primrose?"

"Oh. Prim is very… kind. She's more compassionate, and caring then I'll ever be. She is loving and sweet and fragile. She wouldn't last here." She gestures to the arena as a whole. Then she looks me right in the eyes and says, "I probably would have died watching her in the arena."

I know what she means, but I'm surprised that Katniss has let me into her circle of trust. It's clear that few people are included in it. I'm honored that she trusts me this much.

Katniss turns to me, "Time for a topic change," She smiles and I know she's not irritated by me, yet. "What do you love most in the world? Other than your family?" She clarifies her question, but I knew what she meant.

That's easy, "Music." I expect her response.

"Music?" Her tone is incredulous. She probably thinks it's a waste of time. "You have a lot of time for that?"

"We sing at home. At work too. That's why I love your pin." I point at the golden bird, and she looks down, seeming to remember that it's there.

"You have mockingjays?"

"Oh, yes. I have a few that are my special friends. We can sing back and forth for hours. They carry messages for me." Hopefully Prine has taken over my job, in the highest trees, talking to the birds, and signaling that the quitting flag is flying. I know she won't let me down.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm usually up highest, so I'm the first to see the flag that signals quitting time. There's a special little song I do," I sing the four note melody to the adjacent mockingjays. "And the mockingjays spread it around the orchard. That's how everyone knows to know off. They can be dangerous though," I add as a warning to Katniss. "If you get too near their nests. But you can't blame them for that."

She seems to marvel at me for a moment. As if she's shocked that in a world such as mine, I've found something so innocent, so trivial that is my favorite thing.

She begins to remove the pin. Then she holds it out to me. Now I understand, and while it's a kind gesture, I can't accept. The mockingjay is part of who she is-I can feel it.

"Here, you take it. It has more meaning for you than me."

"Oh, no." I gently close the pin in her palm. "I like to see it on you. That's how I decided I could trust you," That's only a small lie. The mockingjay pin _had _been a signal, just not the main one. "Besides, I have this." I assure her with my token.

I show it to her, and she looks confused. I explain, "It's a good luck charm."

"Well, it's worked so far." She refastens the pin to her shirt. "Maybe you should just stick with that." I give her a tentative smile.

Her generosity and humility continue to shock me. She values her sister's life more than her own, and it's clear. She was willing to give me the only thing she has in this arena to remind her of home.

Somehow, in our world, a perfectly independent Katniss Everdeen seems to have been raised, seemingly unaffected by the Capitol, and it's controlling rule. It's as if she knows how to operate _just_ under, every radar. Knowing her, that's exactly what she does.

* * *

**Hey guys! I wanted to post another chapter, even though we are so close to the end and it appears as though there will only be two more chapters *gasp*. I am going to miss writing this story, but I do have some other ideas. We will just have to see.  
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**Now, on to this chapter. What do you think? Please be honest. This chapter was full of my words, and dialogue because Suzanne Collins never actually wrote out Rue's and Katniss's conversation. She took the easy way out, "And I come to know Rue..." etc. I saw this as an opportunity for character development and I jumped at the chance to write it all out. Let me know if you think somone was OOC. I think I might have been a little off with Katniss.  
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	20. The Real: The End

Chapter 19

I can't manage a conscious thought until I hear Katniss asking me a question over and over. She looks desperate, so I concentrate hard on her words-for her, for my siblings, for my parents. I can't let them down now.

"Are there more?"

_No, _I think, _no, just him. _

It takes me a moment to realize she can't hear me unless I speak my thoughts aloud.

"No," I'm frustrated that even I can't hear my words. "No," I try again, only a little louder. I draw in a large, painful, breath and try to scream the words knowing they will be loud enough for her to hear. "No."

She hears this and drops to my side. She looks distraught, and if breathing didn't hurt so much I would tell her it was ok. I expected this.

For the first time I realize that Katniss had killed Marvel. I can't help but pity him-the poor child forced to kill me in a failed attempt to prolong his own life. Unfortunately for him he chose a target with a killer ally. I'm not happy that Katniss had to kill him for my benefit either.

She cuts the net off me, making it marginally easier to breathe. She doesn't try to tell me I'm ok, and I'm grateful to her for that. No point in giving someone who's dying false hope-and I'd rather not be lied to on my death bead.

She kneels beside me, staying with me till the end. I reach for her hand and she grabs mine tightly, as if she's trying to hold the life in my body. It's a futile attempt.

"You blew up the food?" I have to be sure.

"Every last bit." She confirms, tears in her eyes.

"You have to win." I inform her, knowing she will. I've had faith in her from the first time I saw her. She will win-for Primrose, and now, for me.

"I'm going to. Going to win for both of us now." She tells me soothingly, and I know this is the truth, not an empty promise. She will win for me.

I hear the cannon of the boy from 1 and I see her tense up. I'm worried she'll leave for a second and I beg pitifully, "Don't go."

"Course not." Her dismissal of leaving makes me feel bad-she'd never leave me like this. "Staying right here." She pulls my head into her lap and tucks my hair behind my ear. It's hard to feel anything other than the pain in my stomach right now. It's getting harder to breath and form words.

She looks at me, tears in her eyes, and I know she want to do something for me. She needs to feel helpful, or at least feel like she's easing my pain in this moment. I think of something that I want, right here, in this moment, as I'm dying: music.

Katniss can give me that. I breathe in deeply, ignoring the pain that spasms in my torso-she needs to hear my request. "Sing?" It's a plea.

If I'm dying I want to hear her voice singing to me. Leading me out of this terrible world forever.

She looks at me, confused but willing to carry out my request. As she thinks of a song to sing to me I allow my thoughts to wander to my family-most likely for the last time.

I picture Prine's face when she got her seventh birthday surprise. I see Flux and Magnus's reaction to their new bedroom-they were ecstatic despite the lack of space. I see my mothers face when she told us all she was pregnant with Pleione. My father's content expression every morning when he drank his tea. Pleione's face as she tells me goodbye, and promises me she won't ask our mother and father when I'll be home. And finally Marope when she smiles at me after school each day.

_I'm sorry,_ I think. _Sorry I didn't do anything special in these games. Sorry I let you down. Sorry I'm leaving you. Sorry I can't be there for you anymore. I'm so, so sorry. _I let a tear roll down my cheek, as I think of them one more time. _Please be ok without me. _

And then Katniss begins to sing. Her voice is hindered by the tears she's holding back, but it's clear and beautiful. I'm glad she's here, staying with me as the life drains out of my body.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow _

_ A bed of grass, a soft green pillow _

_ Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_ And when again they open, the sun will rise._

I listen to her words and think about how beautiful they are. I want to be in that place, in that meadow where everything is beautiful, peaceful and perfect. It's like that place I told Prine I was going to. The place that was full of love, music, food, and joy. That place that's so much better than here, where we condone tossing children into an arena with other children for a death match.

I want to be there.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_ Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_ Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_ Here is the place where I love you._

_I love you too, _I think though she doesn't know. _I have so much faith in you; You're going to win. _I look at her face, committing every detail of it to memory, fighting to keep my eyelids from shutting-I know that when they do I will be unable to reopen them.

I take in my surroundings. I force myself to remember the color of sunlight as it filters through the leaves. It's a beautiful color-one of my favorites. I see a mockingjay too. Just perched on a branch simply, as if there was nothing wrong with the world. I notice-with a start, that this bird is completely silent. I know it can her Katniss's song, but it's waiting for her to finish before it sings. Because her voice is that beautiful.

_When she sings, even the birds stop to listen. _With that thought my heavy eyelids flutter shut, and as I'd suspected I can't open them again. Each breath sends a shooting pain into my stomach and I start to gasp for breath. But I can't go yet; I have to hear the end of Katniss's song.

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

_ A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray_

_ Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

_ And when again it's morning, they'll wash away. _

Her voice is starting to fade away, but I'm fighting to stay alive. I breath deeper, ignoring the pain, because I want her to finish the song. My heart is slowing down and I know I can't fight much longer.

Katniss gives me a little more strength when I feel her tears fall onto my face. I know she would want me to hear the song-so I fight for her. I fight for all the oppressed citizens in Panem, because if I can hold on, I will die in my own small way, a rebel. Someone who decided to fight back against the pull of death-the relief that death would bring. I know that giving up would make the pain go away, but at this point I owe it to Katniss and my family to hang on. I need to fight for this. Fight for this song.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_ Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

I can hardly hear her last words, but it's not because I'm not trying. It's because her emotions are getting to her. I want to tell her it's ok, that I'm ok. I'm not afraid.

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_ Here is the place where I love you. _

I let the air leave my lungs. _There, _I think, _her song is over. I can stop fighting now. _And everything, the pain, the sadness, fades to white.

* * *

**Wow. You won't believe how hard that was to write. I hope it seems like a fitting end to Rue's story. And I hope you really love it. Let me know what you think. And I'm so sorry about the mix up. Apparently Chapter 17 was posted as "The End". Thanks for all your support. This, being my first ever fanfiction, truly was a joy to write-despite all the sorrow. **

**Thank you, **

**R&R**


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